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By Abbie Farwell Brown
Kisington Town. Illustrated.
Songs of Sixpence. Illustrated.
Their City Christmas. Illustrated.
John of the Woods. Illustrated.
Fresh Posies. Illustrated.
Friends and Cousins. Illustrated.
The Star Jewels and Other Wonders. Illustrated.
The Flower Princess. Illustrated.
The Curious Book of Birds. Illustrated.
A Pocketful of Posies. Illustrated.
In the Days of Giants. Illustrated.
The Book of Saints and Friendly Beasts. Illustrated.
The Lonesomest Doll. Illustrated.

Kisington Town by Abbie Farwell Brown

To the Best of Readers
Whose Pleasant Voices taught me the Love of Books
Dear Father : Dear Mother

O for a book and a shadie nook
Eyther in-a-door or out,
With the greene leaves whisp'ring overhede,
Or the street-cryes all about,
Where I may Reade at my ease,
Both of the Newe and Olde
For a jollie goode Booke, whereon to looke,
Is better to me than Golde! -- Old Song

Note: The tales of "The Wonder-Garden" and "The King's Pie" are herereprinted by courteous permission of the publishers ofSt. Nicholas,in which magazine they originally appeared. The tales of "The Dragon ofHushby," "The Lion Passant," and "Little Bear," are reprinted by kindpermission of the publishers ofThe Churchman. The Icelandic legendof "The Bear's Daughter" is sketched from notes of a talk by VilhjalmirStefánsson, the explorer, who is lamented as lost on the lateunfortunate voyage of the Karluk to Arctic waters.

ILLUSTRATIONS

I: HAROLD

Once upon a time there was a peaceful Kingdom which you will hardly findupon the map. In one corner of the Kingdom by the sea was the prettylittle Town of Kisington, where a great many strange things had happenedin the past, the chronicles of which filled the town library.

On the High Street of Kisington lived a boy named Harold, who was chiefof all the boys in town. He could run faster, jump higher, solve aproblem more quickly, and throw a ball farther than any other lad of hisage. He was tall and straight and broad-shouldered. His hair was brownand curly, and his eyes were sky-color,--sometimes blue, sometimes gray,sometimes almost black. All the boys liked Harold, especially Richardand Robert, his chums. And Harold liked all the boys and their doings;especially these same two, Robert and Richard.

Harold was the son of a poor widow; one of the poorest in the Kingdom.But though she was so poor, the mother of Harold was determined that herson should be a scholar, because he liked books. And she worked earlyand late to earn the money for his education.

When Harold was not in school or playing out of doors with the otherboys, he always had a book in his hand. Often this happened in the townlibrary, where Harold loved to go. But almost as often it happened athome. For though Harold liked to read to himself, he liked quite as wellto read aloud to his mother, who ever since she was a tiny child hadalways been so busy taking care of other people that she had never foundtime to learn to read for herself. The greatest happiness of her lifecame in the evening when her work was done. Then she could sit in a cozychair in their cottage and hear her boy read the exciting books which hegot from the library of Kisington. And the other boys--especiallyRichard and Robert--liked also to hear Harold read; for his voice wasagreeable and he read simply and naturally, without any gestures ortremulous tones, without pulling queer faces such as make listenerswant to sink through the floor with embarrassment.

Every time Harold read a story aloud he liked it better than before;every time he read aloud he read better than he had done the last time,until there was nobody in Kisington, not even the Librarian himself, whowas so good a reader as Harold. But the other boys were not jealous,Harold was so good-natured and always ready to read to them.

The Librarian was a very important personage indeed in Kisington. Yousee, this was a peaceful Kingdom, where books were more thought of thanbullets, and libraries than battleships. The Librarian wore a splendidvelvet gown with fur upon the hood, and a gold chain around his neckwith a medal, and he was second in importance only to the Lord Mayorhimself.

One summer evening the windows of the cottage where Harold and hismother lived were wide open, and Harold was reading aloud to her. For awonder, they were quite by themselves. The Librarian, who was a lonelyold fellow without chick or child of his own, happened to be passingdown the High Street when he heard the sound of a voice reading. Itread so well that he stopped to listen. Presently he tapped on the doorand begged to be invited within the better to hear the reading. Thewidow was very proud and pleased, you may be sure. She bade theLibrarian welcome, and Harold continued to read until curfew sounded forevery one to go to bed. The Librarian patted him on the head and askedif he might come again to hear such good reading. He came, in fact, thevery next night.

After that Harold usually had an audience of at least two on the longevenings, even when the other boys were busy. The Librarian became hisfast friend. He liked to come to the little cottage better than anywhereelse in the world, except to his own library. But at the library he inturn was host, and Harold became his guest. And he showed Harold manywonderful things in that library of which no one but the Librarian knewthe existence,--strange histories, forgotten chronicles, wonder-tales.Gradually Harold became almost as well acquainted with the books as wasthe Librarian himself; though, of course, he did not at first understandthem all. Nothing happens all at once. The other fellows called Haroldthe "Book-Wizard."

The library was a beautiful building on the main square, close by theLord Mayor's house and the belfry, where swung the great town bell. Itwas open freely to every one, from morning until night, and any onecould always get any book he wanted, for there were many copies of eachbook. The caretakers always knew just where to find the book one wished.Or the reader might go in and choose for himself; which is a pleasanterthing when you have forgotten the name of your book, or do not know justwhich book you want most until you have looked about.

The shelves of the library were nice and low, so that, no matter howlittle you were, you could reach the books without standing on tiptoe orclimbing a dangerous ladder. And everywhere in the library werewell-lighted tables to put books on, and cozy chairs, and crickets foryour feet, and cushions for your back. There were wide window-seats,too, where between chapters one could curl up and look down into abeautiful garden.

The air of the library was always sweet and clean. The books were alwaysbright and fresh. There was no noise, nor dust, nor torn pages, norcross looks to disturb one. The people who took care of the books werecivil and obliging. It was indeed a very rare and unusual library. Nowonder Harold and the Librarian and all the other citizens of Kisingtonloved it and were proud of it and used it very often.

II: THE SIEGE OF KISINGTON

Now, when Harold was about twelve years old, a terrible thing befell hiscity. Red Rex, ruler of the neighboring land across the border, decidedto make war on this peaceful Kingdom, just for fun. He was a fierce andpowerful King, and he had a fierce and powerful army, always ready,night and day. One morning, without any warning whatever, they marchedright up to the walls of Kisington, which were never defended, and laidsiege to the city. They began to batter the gates and mine the walls andfire into the city arrows and cannon-balls, or whatever were thefashionable missiles of that long-past day. The peaceful city was indanger of being utterly destroyed.

The people of Kisington were greatly distressed. Though they were brave,they did not want to fight. They had no time for fighting, there were somany more interesting things to attend to: agriculture and commerce,science and art and music, study and play and happiness, all of whichcome to an end when fighting begins. They did not want to fight; butneither did they want their beautiful city destroyed, with all itstreasures.

There was no telephone, no telegraph in those days. Messages went byhorses. It would be days before help could come from their own KingVictor, who lived in the Capital City. In the mean time what could bedone to save Kisington? The Lord Mayor set the great bell to tolling inthe belfry, and this called together the Chief Citizens in the hall ofthe library to consider the emergency.

"Alas!" quoth the Lord Mayor, trying to make himself heard in the horriddin that was arising from the city gates, "our fair city is threatened,and will be taken in a few hours unless we can devise some plan ofwisdom. Force we have not, as you all know. Force is the argument ofbarbarians. Already a missile has knocked down the statue of Progressfrom the portal of the library, and I fear that the whole building isdoomed. For it is at our library that the enemy seem to be directingtheir malice."

A groan of anguish answered him. Then the Librarian spoke up. "Ah! themisguided King! He does not love books. If only he knew the treasures heis threatening to destroy! He cannot understand."

"No. He knows not what he does," said the Lord Mayor solemnly. "He iswar-mad and cannot understand anything else. If he had been brought upto love peace and learning and progress better than war and blood, hewould be a different man. He would be seeking to know our books in love,not to destroy them with hate. If he had but read our Chronicles, surelyhe would not wish to put an end to this our unique treasure."

The Librarian started at his words and jumped to his feet. "You give mean idea, my Lord Mayor!" he cried. "Can we not cause him to change hismind? Can we not interest him in our books, enthrall him in theChronicles of Kisington, so that he will cease to make war? Can we notat least gain time until our King Victor and his allies shall come toour aid?"

Boom! went the cannon, andCrash! the statue of a great poet fellfrom the portal of the library.

The Lord Mayor shuddered. "It is an idea," he agreed. "There is a fainthope. Something must be done, and that quickly. How shall we begin, SirLibrarian?"

The Librarian turned to the shelves behind him and took down at random abook bound in red-and-gold. "Here, let us begin with this," he said. "Itmay not be the best of all our Chronicles, but if the warlike King canbe induced to read it through, it may serve to hold his wrath for aspace."

"Who will go with the volume into the enemy's camp?" asked the LordMayor dubiously.

"We must send our best reader," said the Librarian. "Red Rex must hearthe tale read aloud, the better to hold his unaccustomed attention."

"Surely, you are the best reader, Sir Librarian," urged the Lord Mayorgenerously. "How we all admire your style and diction!"

Crash! The rainbow window above their heads was shivered into athousand pieces.

The Lord Mayor turned pale. "We must make haste!" he urged, pushing theLibrarian gently by the elbow.

"Nay," said the Librarian coolly, releasing himself. "There is one whoreads far better than I. It is a young boy, the son of a poor widowliving on the High Street. Harold is his name, and he reads as sweetlyas a nightingale sings. Let us send for him at the same time when ourmessenger goes to King Victor."

This happened on a Saturday, when the boys were not at school. But onaccount of the bombardment of the city, the Lord Mayor had already givenorders that every child should remain in his own home that morning. SoHarold was with his mother when the messenger from the Lord Mayorknocked on the door of the little cottage in the High Street, and Robertand Richard did not know anything about it.

"Come with me!" said the messenger to Harold. "You are needed forimportant service."

"Oh, where is he going?" cried the poor, trembling mother, holding backher boy by the shoulders.

"He is to come directly to the library," said the messenger. "TheLibrarian has a task for him."

"Ah! The Librarian!" The mother sighed with relief, and let her handsfall from the shoulders of Harold. "To that good man of peace I cantrust my son, even amid this wicked bombardment."

When Harold came to the library with the messenger, they found thebeautiful portal of the building quite destroyed, and the windows lyingin pitiful shattered fragments. They entered under a rain of missiles,and discovered the Leading Citizens gathered in a pale group in thecenter of the hall, under a heavy oak table.

"My boy!" said the Librarian, with as much dignity as possible under thecircumstances. "We have sent for you, believing that you only can saveour beautiful library, our books, our city, our people, from immediatedestruction. Will you risk your life for all these, Harold?"

Harold looked at him bravely. "I do not know what you mean, sir," hesaid, "but gladly would I risk my life to save the precious booksalone. Tell me what I am to do, and I will do it as well as a boy can."

"Well spoken, my brave lad!" cried the Librarian. "You are to do this";and he thrust into the hand of Harold a red-and-gold volume. "Even asthe boy David of old conquered the Philistine with a child's toy, so youmay perhaps conquer this Philistine with a story-book. Go to the savageKing yonder, with a flag of truce; and if you can win his ear, beg toread him this, which is of an importance. If you read as well as I haveheard you do ere now, I think he will pause in his work of destruction,at least until the story's end."

III. RED REX

A committee of the First Citizens led Harold to the city gate. He wishedto say good-bye to his mother, and to Richard and Robert; but there wasno time. Presently a watchman raised a white flag above the wall.Thereafter the noise of the besiegers ceased.

Bearing the white flag in one hand and the gorgeous book in the other,Harold stepped outside the gate. The foreign soldiers stared to see soyoung a messenger, and some of them would have laughed. But Harold heldup his head proudly and showed them that he was not afraid, nor was heto be laughed at.

A guard of fierce-looking soldiers took him in charge and marched himacross the trampled sward, between the ranks of the army, until theycame to a little hillock. And there Harold found himself standing infront of a huge man with bristling red hair and beard, having a mightyarm bound with iron. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. He sat upon thehillock as if it were a throne, and held a wicked-looking sword acrosshis great knees, frowning terribly.

"Well, who are you, and what do you want with me?" growled the Red King."A queer envoy this! A mere boy!"

"The City Fathers have sent me to read you something, please YourMajesty," said Harold, trying to look brave, though his knees werequaking at the awful appearance of the War-Lord.

"Very well," grumbled the Red King. "But waste no time. Begin and havedone as quickly as may be."

Harold began to read from the red-and-gold book; but he had not gone farwhen Red Rex interrupted him.

"Why, it is a tale!" he roared. "Thunder and lightning! Do they thinkthis is a child's party? Go home with your story-book to your nurseryand leave me to deal with your city in warrior fashion."

"I come from no nursery!" protested Harold, squaring his shoulders. "Iam no molly-coddle. No boy can beat me at any game. I am instructed toread you this, and I must do so, unless you break the truce and do meharm."

"Who ever heard the like of this!" thundered Red Rex. "Here am I makingreal war, and this boy interrupts me to read a tale! What a waste oftime! I read nothing, boy. War dispatches are all I have taste for. Doesthis concern war?"

"It has everything to do with this war," said Harold truthfully. "It isvery important, and they say I read rather well."

"When did you learn to read rather well?" questioned the Red Kingsulkily. "I never learned to read well, myself, and I am thrice yourage. I never have had time. At your years I was already a soldier.Fighting was the only sport I cared for. Reading is girls' business."

"A lot of good things are girls' business, and boys' business, too,"said Harold loyally. "But please hear me read about the fight, YourMajesty."

"About a fight;--it is a long time since I heard a story about a fight,written in ink," said the Red King musingly. "But I have myself seenmany fights, written in red blood."

"This is a story different from any you ever read," said Harold. "It isa story no one ever heard read before, outside Kisington. Will YourMajesty permit that I begin?"

Red Rex hummed and hawed, hesitated and frowned. But he was a curiousKing, as well as a savage one, and his curiosity triumphed. "What ho!"he shouted to his guard at last. "Let there be a truce until I give wordto resume the fighting. I have that which claims my attention. Boy, Iwill hear the story. Plant the flag of truce upon this hillock and sitdown here at my feet. Now!" He unfastened his belt and sword, took offhis heavy helmet and made himself comfortable, while his men lolledabout in the grass near by. Harold seated himself at the feet of the RedKing, as he was bidden; and opening the red-and-gold book began to readin his best manner the story ofThe Dragon of Hushby.

IV. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART I

Long, long ago, in the days when even stranger things befell than we seenowadays, travelers brought news to the little town ofKisington-by-the-Sea. They said that the terrible Dragon of Hushby hadwakened again from his fifty years' nap; had crept out of his cave inthe mountain, and was terrifying the country as he had done in thegrandfathers' times. Already he had destroyed ten horses; had eaten onehundred head of cattle, six fair maidens, and twelve plump littlechildren. Besides which he had killed three brave men who had dared tofight with him. But now no one ventured near the cave where the dreadfulcreature lived, and the land was filled with horror for which thereseemed to be no hope of relief.

Moreover, so the travelers said, the King proclaimed that whoever shouldput an end to the terror of Hushby might ask of his sovereign whateverreward he chose, even the hand of the King's daughter. Now when thisnews came to Kisington there was great excitement. For Hushby Town wasnot far distant from the market-place of Kisington. People gathered ingroups talking in whispers of the Dragon, and looking fearfully out ofthe corners of their eyes as they spoke. Who could tell when thecreature might wander in their direction, as the Chronicles recordedthat he had done once, long ago, when he had destroyed the daughter ofhim who was Lord Mayor at that time? Kisington had special reasons, yousee, for longing to hear that a hero had conquered the Dragon.

Of all the people in Kisington who heard the news, the one most excitedthereby was a lad named Arthur. He did not look like a hero, for he wasshort, and small, and ugly. For this reason no one had ever thought himespecially brave. Most people expect heroes to be great, big men. Arthurwas held to be of little account in Kisington. But though he was alittle fellow, he had a great heart. All his life he had loved tales ofbravery and adventure, and he longed to be a. hero. Besides, he thoughtit would be a. fine thing to marry the King's daughter, who, like allprincesses, must be very beautiful.

Arthur lived by himself in a castle which had once belonged to hisuncle. Now that uncle had been an Amateur Magician; that is, he wasalways doing things with flaring fires and queer bottles, messes ofstrange liquids and horrid smells,--hoping to learn how to turn old ironinto gold, or to discover some other useful secret. No one ever heard,however, of his accomplishing anything; until one day, with aBang! heblew himself up.` And every one heard of that. His will gave all hisAmateur-Magical stuff to Arthur--all his forges and bellows and bulbsand bottles, the syrups and nasty smells. But Arthur cared nothing atall about Amateur Magic, and scarcely ever went into the desolate towerin one wing of the castle, where his uncle's laboratory was gatheringdust.

But after news came about the Dragon of Hushby, things were different.An idea had come into Arthur's head. "Oh, dear!" he said to himself. "Ifonly I could find something which would make me big! Only a giant couldkill the Dragon of Hushby, he is so huge and terrible. Perhaps my unclemay have discovered a secret which would turn me into a giant!"

Eagerly he hurried to the deserted room. Everything was draped in dustycobwebs, and when he opened the door the rats went scuttling in alldirections. All among the bottles and boxes and books and bundles hesought and sought for some discovery which should help him. But thoughhe found many other curious things, he found not what he sought. Thoughhe poked in every dark corner and read carefully the labels on everyphial, and the recipes in every book, he found no Secret for GrowingBig. He could have learned, had he wished, "How to Make a Silk Purse Outof a Sow's Ear"; "How to Make a Horse Drink"; "How to Make an Empty SackStand Upright," and other very difficult things. But all these secretswere of no use to Arthur, and he thought that his uncle had wasted muchvaluable time in making these discoveries. Which, indeed, was true.

Arthur grew more and more discontented every day. But one morning, quiteby accident, he hit his elbow against a hidden spring in a certainknot-hole of the wall in the dusty laboratory. Immediately a secretpanel opened, and there behind it was a secret cupboard. In the cupboardwas the secretest-looking package, wrapped in a velvet cloth. Arthurunrolled it eagerly and found a little leather case. When the case wasopened, he saw inside a bit of glass set in gold, with a handle. Itlooked quite like a modern reading-glass--only reading-glasses were notinvented until many, many years later. "What can this be?" said Arthurto himself. And taking up the glass he looked through it. Wonderful!Everything suddenly seemed to become small--just as it does nowadayswhen we look through the wrong end of an opera-glass. But Arthur hadnever seen an opera-glass, you know; this was so many hundreds of yearsago.

Arthur looked around the room, and everything had suddenly become so tiny that it made him laugh. In the window a huge spider--as big as his hand--had been spinning her web. Now she was no larger than a dot. A rat scampered across the floor, and as Arthur looked it shrank to the size of a fly! A bird flew past the window, singing, and it grew smaller as it flew, while its voice became tinier and tinier till it sounded like the buzzing of an insect. Amazed, Arthur took down the glass from his eye. Instantly everything appeared again of its natural size--all except the spider and the rat and the bird. They remained tiny as they had seemed through the glass. Arthur had magicked them!

"Ho!" cried Arthur. "This is some of my uncle's Amateur Magic. He had,indeed, discovered how to make living things grow small. Alas! Thathelps me little. I am small enough now. But if only it worked the otherway I might become a giant. What a pity! what a pity! Stay--perhaps if Ireverse the glass something better may be done!"

He was about to turn the glass over and raise it to his eye again, whenhe spied a bit of parchment in the box. On it were scribbled some words,in faded ink.

"A Wondrous Device to Make the Living Small. Thrice More May It be UsedBefore Its Virtue Fades."

"Ah!" said Arthur, laying down the glass. "Then, as I feared, the glasscan only make things smaller. But I have an idea! What if I should lookwith this glass upon the Dragon of Hushby? Would he not shrink as thespider and the rat and the bird have done? Yes; and then I should nolonger have need to be a giant, for I could tame him, even I myself inmy proper form! It is a good thought. I may yet be the hero ofKisington. But I must be careful of the precious glass and not waste itspowers. 'Thrice more may it be used,' so says the scroll. Once, then,for the Dragon, and two times more for accidents that may happen."

Without more ado Arthur made ready for his great adventure. For arms hetook but two things--the magic glass in his wallet, and a butterfly-netover his shoulder. In truth, the little fellow looked more like aschoolboy bound for a holiday in the woods, than a hero in quest ofhonor.

Now, first, without saying aught of his intent to any in Kisington, hejourneyed to the Capital City, to gain the King's permission for thetrial.

With the handle of his butterfly-net he thumped upon the door of theKing's palace and said: "Open! I wish to speak with the King!"

The warders looked at him and laughed; he was such a strange littlefigure. "What do you want of the King?" they asked.

"Tell him that I come to seek his favor before I go forth to conquer theDragon of Hushby."

"Ho, ho!" roared the warders. But they went and told the King whatArthur said. "He is mad, Your Majesty," they added. "He is a littlefellow, armed with a butterfly-net. Ho, ho!"

The King laughed, too. But he was curious to see this champion. So hehad Arthur admitted. With his net over his shoulder, Arthur marched intothe long hall, between the rows of tittering courtiers, and knelt beforethe King. "So you intend to slay the Dragon of Hushby?" said the King."It needs a giant for that deed. What will you do, forsooth, you littlefellow, with your butterfly-net?"

"Your Majesty," said Arthur, "do you not remember how David was a littlefellow, when with a stone he slew the giant Goliath? Well, I am anotherlittle fellow; but I have a stone in my pocket with which I mean to tamea foe more terrible than David's was. And as for this net--wait, andyou shall see!"

"Very well," said the King, laughing, "I will wait and see. But whatreward shall you ask if you are successful?"

"Your Majesty," said Arthur politely, "may I ask to see your daughter? Ihave heard that the Dragon-Slayer may hope to win her hand."

At these words of Arthur's the King burst into a roar of laughter, andclapped his knee, as though it were a mighty joke. And all the courtiersheld their sides and shook with mirth. But Arthur was angry, for he didnot see that he had said anything funny.

"Ho! ho!" roared the King. "Heralds, bid my daughter Agnes to comehither. He! he! For there is one who wishes to see her. Ha! ha!"

While the room was still echoing with laughter, the heralds entered withthe King's daughter, and Arthur saw why every one had laughed. ThePrincess was a giantess,--a head taller than any man present,--andthough she was very beautiful, her face was hard and cold, and shelooked bad-tempered. When she walked, the floor trembled, and when shespoke, the glasses shivered.

"Heavens!" said Arthur to himself, "this is a Princess, indeed! It willbe more of a task to tame her than any dragon. But she is very handsome,and I have my magic glass. When we are married I will turn her into anice little girl, just the size for me. So all will be well."

The King pointed to Arthur with his scepter. "Behold our champion," hesaid, chuckling. "My daughter, it is for you to hope that this bravefellow may slay the Dragon of Hushby. For in that case I vow to make youhis wife."

"Huh!" said the Princess, looking down at Arthur and frowning. ButArthur advanced and made a low bow to her. "For such a great prize, YourHighness," he said, "a man would venture much."

At these words the Princess looked crosser than ever, and tossed herhead. "Take care that the Dragon does not swallow you at a mouthful,Dwarf!" she said, very impolitely, and every one laughed.

Arthur turned red with anger. "I will take care," he said. "And I shallwin what I will and conquer where I choose. Farewell, my lady. We shallhave more words hereafter, when I come to claim you for my wife."

But, of course, no one thought there was any hope for the little fellow.They believed him to be mad, and when he had gone they nearly died,laughing at the huge joke. The Princess laughed loudest of all.

Proudly Arthur set forth upon the King's errand, with the magic glass inhis pocket, and the butterfly-net over his shoulder. A number of merryfellows followed him from the court to see the issue of his madadventure. For they thought there would be a thing to laugh at ere theend of the matter. They jested with Arthur and gibed pleasantly at him.But he answered them gayly and kept his temper, for he knew that theymeant no harm.

But with them journeyed one of a different sort. And this was Oscar, aburly ruffian, whose joy was in evil, and who followed Arthur hoping fora chance to rob him, since he seemed a fool who had some precioustreasure in his wallet, which he was forever handling. Him Arthur didnot like, and he watched Oscar, but had no words with him.

V. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART II

After a time, Arthur and his band came to the town of Hushby, and werereceived with wonder; for the people thought them all mad, especiallyArthur, with his butterfly-net and his boast to slay the Dragon. Butthey treated him gratefully, as one who sought to be their deliverer,albeit shaking their heads over his small stature and slender strength.

Arthur slept that night at the inn, intending to seek the Dragon on themorrow. And about the inn, on benches, on the curbs of Hushby streets,and under the trees, slept the merry jesters who had followed Arthurfrom the King. And Oscar thought to rob Arthur while he slept; but hewas prevented.

In the night came the Dragon down from his cave in the mountain, andrushing up the village street nearly caught Oscar as he was climbing inat the window of the inn. Oscar fled barely in time. But the Dragoncaught and ate in one mouthful two of the merry band of jesters, so thatthey jested no longer. Then there was a great outcry and panic. ButArthur slept soundly through it all, dreaming of the Princess, and howfair she would be when he had made her his wife and had magicked herwith the glass.

In the morning bright and early Arthur came down to table. He found thelandlord and all the people white and trembling.

"Oh, sir!" cried Mine Host in a whisper. "Behold, the Dragon hasdescended from the mountain in the darkness and has eaten two of theKing's men this night. His appetite is whetted, and we hear him roaringafar off. It is a sign that he will soon again make another descent uponus. In the name of St. George, haste to save us!"

Arthur listened and heard the far-off thunder of the loathly worm. Buthe did not tremble. He only drew himself up to his last inch andfrowned, fingering the magic glass in his wallet.

"First will I breakfast," he said. "And then will I go forth to rid youof this pest. Bring on the morning meal."

When he had eaten heartily, even to the last crumb, Arthur arose andtook his butterfly-net in hand.

"Farewell, noble youth!" cried Mine Host, with tears in his eyes. ForArthur had paid his score generously, and the landlord did not expect tosee the little fellow again. The landlord's fair daughter, Margot, stoodweeping, with the corner of her apron to her eyes. For she admired thebrave lad mightily. She was a very little maid, no taller than Arthur'sshoulder, and he looked at her kindly when he saw her weep.

"What a fair, sweet maid!" he said to himself. "If it were not for theKing's daughter, I would choose her for my Lady, and ask her to give methe blue ribbon from her hair to wear in my cap. But that may not be. Imust win glory for the King's big daughter."

He patted Margot on the head and said debonairly: "Farewell! And have agoodly dinner ready against my return. For I shall bring with me aDragon's appetite."

So he spoke, jesting upon the terrible subject. Margot wept harder thanever, and his other hearers shuddered. Some of the people followed himafar off. But when, nearer and nearer, they heard the Dragon's roarsshaking the hills, they turned about and fled back to the village,leaving Arthur to go his way alone.

Arthur was not afraid. He strode on manfully until he came to the valleywhich led up the mountain where the Dragon lived. And as he strode hewhistled. Presently there was a roar and a rumble and a rattle, andArthur stopped whistling. Nearer and nearer it came, and at last, downfrom the rocks writhed the terrible Dragon himself. And he was far worseto look upon than Arthur had imagined.

He was as big as twenty elephants, and he was green, covered withshining scales. His eyes glowed like the head-lights of two engines, andrevolved horribly in his head. Steam and fire belched from his hugemouth, and he snapped his long, sharp teeth disgustingly. He was aterrifying sight as he writhed toward Arthur. Dreadfully he roared,lashing right and left with his tail, which uprooted the trees andbushes and dislodged the rocks on either hand till they came tumblingdown in an avalanche. His hot breath scorched everything about him, andArthur began to feel faint by reason of the poison in it. But he stoodquite still, waiting for the Dragon, and fingering his magic glass. Itwas to be a mighty experiment.

Arthur waited until the Dragon was only a few yards away. Then he putthe glass to his eye and stared hard at the beast; stared, and stared,and stared.

Such rudeness made the Dragon very angry. He roared louder than ever andcame rushing toward Arthur at redoubled speed. But behold! As Arthurgazed at him the creature began to grow smaller and smaller. First hewas no bigger than an elephant, though still terrible. Then he shrank tothe size of a crocodile; then of a lion; and finally, when he was only afew feet away, he was no bigger than a cat, snarling and spittingfiercely as ever.

By this time the Dragon began to see that something was wrong. He didnot know that he himself was changed, but it seemed to him that Arthurhad swelled. It seemed to him that Arthur was a terrible giant; and, forthe first time in his five thousand years of life, the Dragon wasafraid!

Suddenly he turned tail and began to run away, all the while growinglittler and littler in quite a ridiculous fashion. But Arthur was afterhim valiantly. Now the Dragon was no bigger than a lizard, making afunny squeak as he wriggled through the bushes. His eyes shone like tinylucifer matches, and his mouth smoked like a cigarette. But for this itwould have been hard to see him as he scuttled through the moss andunder the ferns, trying to escape from Arthur's terrible eye.

At last Arthur saw that it was high time to lay aside the magic glass,unless he wished the Dragon to escape by "going out" altogether, whichwould never do. For he must take the creature back to the King.

Now was seen the use of the butterfly-net which Arthur had brought allthe way from Kisington. With this in his right hand Arthur chased theabsurd little Dragon under a stone, and finally threw it over thewriggling body, just as one would catch an insect. Hurrah! There was thecreature tangled in the net, hissing as loudly as a locust. The terribleDragon of Hushby was caught!

Arthur took from his wallet a reel of thread and tied the Dragonsecurely, so that he might not escape. And then, chuckling to himself,he strode back to Hushby pulling the Dragon behind him, just as a littleboy drags a toy horse by a string. It was a very funny sight!

When he drew near the inn, Margot ran out to meet him with tears of joyin her eyes, for she had been watching for him all this time. Then allthe other people came running out, and they cheered lustily when theysaw that Arthur was quite unharmed.

"This of the Dragon!" cried Arthur, drawing from behind him thestruggling creature. "Here is the famous Terror of Hushby. Behold what Ihave done to him!"

Folk could scarce believe their eyes. This wriggling little lizard,could he really be their famous Dragon? Then they saw his tiny, fieryeyes, and the smoke coming from his funny little mouth; and they knew itmust be a really, truly Dragon. A great silence fell upon them, andevery one looked at Arthur in awe. They believed that he must be awizard who had magicked the Dragon of Hushby. But after that they fellto rejoicing, because now no longer had they anything to fear. Arthurhad become the hero of Hushby.

They set him on a seat and carried him on their shoulders around thevillage, with singing and shouting and huzzaing. And the Dragon wentwith him, spitting and hissing and lashing his absurd little scaly tailinside a cage made of fine wire. Arthur enjoyed all this greatly. Butespecially he enjoyed the eyes of little Margot, which followed him,full of admiration. And he said to himself, "It is a fine thing to be ahero. But I wish I had not asked for the King's daughter as my reward. Icould choose better now!"

When night came Arthur slept once more at the inn, with the Dragon inhis little cage beside the bed. Arthur slept soundly, because he washappy and his heart was honest. But the conquered Dragon did not sleep.You see, his conscience was bad,--he had eaten so many poor anddeserving persons. And that gives the worst kind of indigestion.

There was another who did not sleep. And this was Oscar, the wicked. Hehad seen the Dragon when Arthur showed him to the people, and he knewthat the strange little beast was a treasure worth far more than gold orjewels. For there was not another like it in the whole world. He meantto steal the miniature Dragon and carry it to a far land, where he couldexhibit it in a museum and gain much wealth and honor. Of course, Oscarmeant also to claim that this was a young Dragon which he had taken in abrave struggle with its parents, whom Oscar had killed. In that way, hewould become a famous hero.

In the dead of night, when all the inn was quiet, Oscar softly climbedup the trellis to the window of the room where Arthur slept. In thedarkness two tiny red spots showed him where the Dragon writhed andwriggled restlessly. Stealthily Oscar reached out his hand to take theDragon. But when he did so the Dragon gave a hiss which he meant shouldshake the house, but which really was no louder than the chirp of acricket. It was loud enough, however, to waken Arthur. The hero sprangfrom the bed to guard his treasure.

Oscar drew his dagger and rushed upon Arthur. But Arthur had beencareful to sleep with his hand upon his trusty weapon. Swiftly he putthe magic glass to his eye and looked at Oscar. And lo! the wicked manshared the Dragon's fate. Gradually he shrank and shrank, and though hestruck fiercely with his dagger it was of little moment; for Oscar wassoon but two inches high, and his dagger's prick was like that of a pin,which made Arthur laugh.

Arthur was merciful, and did not put him out entirely, as he couldeasily have done. Dropping the glass from his eye he picked up in histhumb and finger the little fellow, struggling like a beetle, and puthim under an overturned pint-pot for safe keeping. There Oscar remaineduntil morning, a restless neighbor of the restless Dragon.

But Arthur said to himself, "I have used the magic glass twice. I mustbe careful, for it can be used only once more before its virtue fades;and that chance must be saved to make my Princess little, since, alas! Imust marry her and not dear Margot." Then Arthur went back to bed andslept soundly until morning.

On the morrow Arthur said nothing about this night's event to Mine Hostnor to the admiring crowd who came to see him set forth on histriumphant journey to the King. He tied Oscar with thread and put himinto his wallet, where the wicked fellow snarled and scolded in a chirpthat no one could hear. As for the Dragon, Arthur fastened a tiny goldchain about his neck and secured it to his doublet, so that the creaturecould crawl up and down his shoulder but could not get away. He lookedlike one of the little chameleons which ladies sometimes wear; thoughwhy they like such unhappy living ornaments I cannot tell.

VI. THE DRAGON OF HUSHBY, PART III

Amid hurrahs and blessings and a rain of flowers, Arthur said farewellto Margot, who loved him, and to Hushby, which he had delivered from theTerror; and once more he journeyed to the King. But this time he went asa hero, whose fame had traveled before him.

The King sent heralds and soldiers to meet him, and a golden chariot tobring him to the city. When Arthur reached the palace he found a greatbanquet prepared, and the King himself came to welcome him and led himto the place of honor. But the Princess Agnes was not there.

As for the Dragon, every one was mad with delight over the wonderfullittle creature. When the King saw him he laughed so that his crownnearly fell into the soup. He delighted to tickle the Dragon's tail andhear him spit and hiss like a little tea-kettle. He liked the Dragonmuch better in this small edition, for he was more conveniently handled.They placed the Dragon's cage in the center of the table, where everyone could see him, and the Dragon glared fiercely with his little redeyes, but no one was afraid. How times had changed since this was theTerror of Hushby!

Then the King said: "Brave Arthur, this Dragonet is the choicesttreasure of my kingdom. I will keep him in a cage of gold beside mythrone, and strangers will come from the ends of the world to see him.It will make my reign famous for all time, and I am very grateful toyou. You are a clever fellow, and perhaps, since you have tamed aDragon, you can tame my daughter as no one else has been able to do,--not even the late Queen or myself. Now, then, to keep my promise. Whatho, heralds! Lead forth the maid."

The heralds blew a joyous blast on their trumpets and went to fetch thePrincess Agnes. Arthur found himself thinking of little Margot at theinn, and how sadly she had looked after him when he went away. But heknew that, being a hero, he must accept the responsibilities of thatposition and marry the Princess. He felt nervously in his wallet for themagic glass, for he said to himself:

"Since I must marry this giantess, between whom and me is little love,let me be sure that I can make her small like myself; else there will beno happiness in my family. As soon as we are wed I will stare at the biggirl until she shrinks into the proper size, as did Oscar and theDragon."

Arthur felt into the corners of his wallet for the magic glass--but itwas not there! Hurriedly he searched again. It was gone! What was to bedone? Must he, then, marry the giant girl and be a slave to her crueltemper all his life? Horrible thought! What had become of the glass?Suddenly he remembered Oscar, who had also been put into the wallet.Oscar likewise was gone!

Arthur saw what had happened. With his little dagger Oscar had cut thethreads which bound him and had escaped, taking the magic glass withhim.

"What makes your face so pale, brave Arthur?" asked the King jokingly."Is it the thought of your dainty little bride?"

Even as Arthur opened his lips to answer, there came a shrill cry frombeneath his very nose. Looking down he saw Oscar standing on the tableand peering over his beaker of wine. In both arms he held the magicglass, and he was turning its shining eye upon Arthur himself.

"Revenge!" cried the little fellow, fiercely. "Revenge! I have learnedhis secret. I will gaze him smaller and smaller, until he goes out.Nothing can save him!"

Before Arthur could move, Oscar pressed his face to the glass and beganto stare as through a window, his malicious eyes fixed upon Arthur'sface. With horror Arthur waited to feel himself shrink. He looked aboutfearfully at the other guests, expecting to see them appear to swellinto giants as he himself grew tiny. He stared at Oscar again, whoshould now seem larger than himself.

But what was this? Nothing happened. The guests were staringopen-mouthed with surprise, but they were of the usual size, Oscar wasstill a tiny dwarf. Arthur rubbed his eyes and looked again. Stillnothing happened. The glass seemed to have lost its magic!

Suddenly, Arthur saw what it meant. The magic of the glass was to lastonly for three trials. Once, before he knew its worth, he had wasted itupon the spider, the rat, and the singing bird. Once the Dragon had feltits power. Its third and last spell had turned Oscar into a midget. Nowits virtue was gone. It was but a piece of ordinary crystal, and Oscar'swicked plan was foiled!

With a squeal of rage Oscar threw the glass crashing upon the floor, andstamped his foot, which made everybody laugh. It was as if a tiny mousehad stamped.

The King stretched out his hand and took up the little fellow curiously."What is this strange insect?" he asked. "Your Majesty," said Arthur,"he is Oscar, a villain who seeks to mischief everybody. I have punishedhim as I punished the Dragon, because he tried to rob me of my mostprecious treasure. He can do no more harm, I think."

"Oscar!" said the King. "Indeed, I know him well. More than once has hedone evil in my city, and I have long meant to punish him. You are aclever fellow to handle him so tactfully. And now, we will dub him'Companion of the Dragon.' He, too, shall have a little cage of gold andshall live with the Dragon for his neighbor. A quaint pair they, Arthur!I thank you for them. But where is my daughter, and why does she delay?"

With horror Arthur heard these words. He had forgotten the Princess.Alas! The glass had lost its power. How then was he to magic her andmake her small, as he had hoped to do? How was he to tame this terriblebig girl and make her a nice little wife? Arthur wished that he hadnever set out to be a hero; he awaited the approach of his bride withterror far greater than he had felt in the Dragon's glen.

Presently the heralds came back to the King, and their faces were verygrave. "Your Majesty," they said, "we cannot bring the Princess. She hasgone; she has fled from the Kingdom with the first royal coachman, whowas a handsome young giant after her own heart. Even now they must befar beyond the border of the neighboring Kingdom. She was heard to saythat she would have no dwarf for a husband, however great a hero hemight be. And when she knew what had happened to the Dragon of Hushby,she was afraid."

There was silence in the banquet hall. Then the King struck a blow onthe table with his fist that made the Dragon hop and hiss nervously,while Oscar fell over and bumped his head on a salt cellar. "Well," saidthe King, "so be it! She was an ill-tempered jade, and I could donothing with her. You are well rid of her, brave Arthur. But how can Iamend this insult to your dignity? Ask of me whatever you choose, and itwill not be enough."

Now, instead of looking sad, Arthur's face was shining with joy at hisnarrow escape. "Your Majesty," he said, "I ask no amend. The lady had aright to her choice, and I hope she may have a giant happiness. Sincethis royal marriage may not be for me, I must look elsewhere. But I havehad enough of adventure and of magic, and I shall now retire intoprivate life."

"Some reward you must have, nevertheless," said the King. "You shallretire nobly. Arise, Sir Arthur! I make you Knight of the Dragon, Lordof the Hushby Marches, and Earl of Kisington. Moreover, whomsoever andwheresoever you choose to wed, I myself will attend the nuptials andwill bestow upon the bride a countess's crown of diamonds. Long live thehero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!"

"Long live the hero of Hushby and Earl of Kisington!" echoed all theguests. The Dragon hissed spitefully and lashed out with his tail, butno one paid any attention to him. Oscar, sulking with elbows on knees,groaned squeakily. But no one paid any attention to him either.

Everybody was thinking of Arthur, and how wonderfully he had become ahero. But Arthur himself was thinking of little Margot at the inn, andhow sweet her face would look under the coronet of a countess. AndArthur grinned happily.

VII. THE BARGAIN

You must not suppose that Harold read this whole story to the besiegingKing without pause. When he reached the end of the first part of thetale, Harold closed the red-and-gold volume and looked up.

Red Rex frowned. "Surely, not the end of the tale!" he cried. "Why, youhave stopped short in the middle! That Oscar was up to some trick, Iknow. I want to hear what happened next."

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," repeated Harold. "It is the end of thevolume. The rest of the tale is told in another book."

The Red King's eyes blazed with anger. "Why did you not bring the otherbook with you?" he roared.

"I was not sure that Your Majesty would like the tale," said Harold."Besides, they will allow one to take from the library but one book at atime from a set of volumes."

"Then you must return and get the next volume immediately," commandedRed Rex. "I must know what happened to Arthur in his quest of theDragon. Take the flag of truce and go back to Kisington; and let it notbe long ere you return!"

"I am sorry, Your Majesty," said Harold, "but it is too late to take outanother book to-day. The rules of the library are very strict."

"Now, did any one ever hear anything so absurd as this!" thundered theRed King, stamping like a bad-tempered child. "What is a mere library,forsooth, to have rules which I may not break?"

"Well, a library is an army of books," answered Harold; "a peaceful armyintended to help people and to make them happy; not to kill them. Ournoble Librarian, who is general of a mighty army of books, must haverules as stern and strict to keep his army useful and efficient. If YourMajesty desires the rest of the tale you must wait until to-morrow."

It looked as if Harold were in great danger, in spite of the flag oftruce. Red Rex stormed and ranted, and his soldiers stood ready withtheir weapons to do whatever he should bid them. But after a while thewarrior's wrath somewhat calmed itself, and shortly he began to chucklenoisily.

"True!" he said. "If I destroy the library I shall not know the end ofthat tale. That would be a calamity! Well, it is now too late to resumethe siege to-day. I may as well continue the truce until to-morrow. Butsee that you return early in the morning, with the rest of the tale."

Once more Harold shook his head. "I must go to Church to-morrowmorning," he replied. "It is Sunday, you know. Surely, you do not fighton Sundays, Your Majesty?"

The Red King looked at him sideways. "I had forgotten Sunday," he said."I have mislaid my calendar. Now, you remind me,--no, I suppose not. No,I do not fight on Sundays."

"I thought not!" said Harold, relieved. "It would not be quite knightly,would it? I will return to-morrow afternoon, as soon as I have had mydinner; and then we will go on with the story of the Dragon of Hushby.Good day, Your Majesty!"

"Good day!" growled Red Rex, watching him march away between the filesof soldiers. "Youngster!" he called after the boy, "be sure you bringback the right volume."

Now, when Harold told the Librarian and the other Leading Citizens whathe had done, they were greatly pleased; for they saw that their city wassafe for at least eighteen hours, while their mounted messenger wentspeeding to King Victor. Harold's chums Robert and Richard were soexcited they could not sleep that night. Harold's mother was as proud asa peacock when he told the story to her; though it was with some dreadthat she looked forward to his return on the morrow into the camp of thefierce besieger. But Harold said:--

"I shall be quite safe, Mother. Never fear! Red Rex is too muchinterested in my story to hurt me. When he forgets war he is a differentman. He is almost pleasant, Mother!"

"What a stupid King he must be to choose war for his pleasure!" saidthe mother. "But suppose he cannot wait for to-morrow afternoon? Supposehe should decide to take the city and win the library for himself, sothat he can read all the books at his leisure. What then?

"Mother," said Harold, "I believe Red Rex has no joy in reading forhimself; no more than you have,--though he may not have your excuse."

"La la!" cried the mother. "What a King is that who has no key to thetreasury of books! You are richer than he, my son. With all his armies,you are more powerful than he, my dear son!"

On the Sunday, after dinner, Harold's friends escorted him to the gate;and as before he went to the Red King under the flag of truce. In hishand he bore the second volume of red-and-gold. Red Rex received himsulkily, yet with a certain eagerness.

"Well, boy, have you brought the book?" he asked. "I have been thinkingof that tale all the night long, all this morning long. Come, let ushear what happened next to Arthur and the Dragon." Then Harold began thesecond part of the tale. Red Rex kept him at it, and would not let himrest until he had quite finished both the second and the third parts ofthe story; though Harold had meant to gain time by reading only theformer on that occasion.

But when he had quite finished, Red Rex sat up, rubbing his handstogether. "It is a good story!" he declared. "That Arthur was a bravefellow. I am glad I did not destroy your library until I had heard abouthim. But now I can return to the siege without delay. I give youwarning, my boy! Do not go back to that doomed town. Desert thosepeace-lovers and come with me to be a fighter, like Arthur."

"Arthur fought wicked Dragons, not men," said Harold. "I would notdesert if I could. I, too, am a peace-lover, and there is too much inKisington from which I could not part. Besides, I must return this booksafe and sound to the library, even if it is to be destroyed soon after,or I shall be fined. My poor mother can ill afford to pay fines for me!"

"But there will be no one left to fine you," retorted the Red King. "Thewhole city will be destroyed,--the library, the Librarian, the LordMayor, and all! What a ruination it will be!" He rubbed his handsgleefully.

Harold shuddered, but he was firm. "What a pity!" he said. "You reallyshould know our Librarian. And there are still many fine books whichYour Majesty ought to hear. You will never know them if they bedestroyed now; their duplicates exist nowhere."

"There are none so good as the tale you have just finished, I warrant!"cried Red Rex.

"Oh, many far better than that, Your Majesty!" said Harold. "Indeed,that is one of the least important.--Did you ever hear of theWonder-Garden, Your Majesty?"

"The Wonder-Garden!" echoed the Red King; "no, that I never did. Whatmeans a 'wonder-garden,' boy?"

"Ah, that you will never know, for it is another of the secret tales ofKisington," said Harold. "It is all about a Mermaid, and a Lord Mayor'sson, and a fair stranger maiden, who--now I bethink me--might be fromyour own land across the border. The Wonder-Garden was hers."

"A maid from my land, with a wonder-garden!" mused Red Rex. "I wouldfain learn of her. I dare say there is good fighting in this tale also.Come, boy; will you read me that tale to-morrow?"

"Yes, Your Majesty; if you will give your kingly word that the truceshall last until the story be finished," replied Harold.

"Ho-hum!" the Red King hesitated. He mumbled and he grumbled; he winkedand he blinked. But at last he said grudgingly, "Well, I promise. Nosoldier shall advance, no weapon shall be discharged until I have heardthe tale of your Wonder-Garden."

With this promise, Harold joyfully hastened back to the beleagueredcity. Kisington was safe for another day! The Lord Mayor and theLibrarian shook hands and went to congratulate Harold's mother.

As for Red Rex, he dreamed that Harold had bewitched him with ared-and-gold book; as perhaps he had done. Were not Richard and Robertat that moment clapping Harold on the shoulder and declaring that he wasindeed a "Book-Wizard"? This is the tale which Harold read to Red Rex onthe following day; the story ofThe Wonder-Garden.

VIII. THE WONDER-GARDEN

There never were seen such beautiful gardens as bloomed inKisington-by-the-Sea. Not only every chateau and villa had its parterresspread with blooming rugs of all colors; but each white-washed cottage,every thatched hut, boasted its garden-plot of dainty posies. Each hadsome quaint device or some special beauty which distinguished it fromthe others. For there was great horticultural rivalry inKisington-by-the-Sea.

Now this was all because Hugh, the Lord Mayor, who was very fond offlowers, had offered a prize for the prettiest garden in the town. TheLord Mayor himself lived on a hill in the center of the town, in themidst of the most beautiful garden of all. It flowed down the hillsidefrom the summit in ripples of radiant color,--roses and lilies, pinksand daffodils, larkspur and snapdragon. All the flowers of the land werethere, and many foreigners beside.

Through the garden wound the yellow driveway by which the Lord Mayorpassed in his golden coach. He loved to drive slowly down this road,sniffing the fragrance of his flowers; and then out through the streetsof the town, observing the beautiful gardens on every hand,--the resultof his own love for flowers.

When the Lord Mayor saw all the fair maidens down on their knees in theflower-beds, watering the buds with their little green water-pots,nipping off dead leaves, pulling up scrawny weeds, coaxing the delicatecreepers to climb, he would rub his hands and say:--

"Ah, this is good! This is very good indeed! We shall have the mostbeautiful town in the world, blossoming with flowers, and the mostbeautiful maids in the world, blossoming with health and sweetness likethe flowers they tend. It will be hard to tell which is the fairer, themaidens or the flowers. Hey! Is it not so, my son?"

The Lord Mayor's son was very good to look upon; tall and fair, withcurly golden locks and eyes as brown as the heart of a yellow daisy.When he drove through the town with the Lord Mayor, the maidens down ontheir knees in their garden-plots would pause a moment from their chaseof a wriggling worm or a sluggish slug to look after the golden coachand sigh gently. Then they would turn back to their Bowers more eagerlythan before. For there was the prize!

You see, the Lord Mayor's son was himself part of the prize to be won.The Lord Mayor had vowed that Cedric, his son, should marry the girl whocould show by late summer the most beautiful garden inKisington-by-the-Sea. Moreover, he promised to build a fine palace tooverlook this prize garden, and there the young couple should live happyever after, like any Prince and Princess. And this was why the maidsworked so hard in the gardens of Kisington-by-the-Sea, and why theflowers blossomed there as no flowers ever blossomed before.

Now one day the Lord Mayor drove through the village in his golden coachand came out upon the downs near the seashore. And there, quite byitself, he found a little cottage which he had never before seen: a tinycottage which had no sign of a garden anywhere about it,--only a fewflowers growing in cracked pots on the window-sills, and on the benchjust outside the door.

"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, stopping the coach. "What does this mean?There should be a garden here. I must look to the reason for thiscontempt of my offer." And he jumped down from the coach and rappedsharply upon the door.

Presently the door opened, and there stood a girl, all in rags, but sobeautiful that the Lord Mayor's son, who was sitting languidly in thegolden coach, shut his eyes as one does when a great light shinessuddenly in one's face.

"Hey!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Why have you no garden, girl?Have you no pride? Do you not dream to win the prize which I offer?"

"I am a stranger," said the maiden timidly. "No one has told me of aprize. What may it be, my Lord?"

"It is a prize worth trying for," said the Lord Mayor. "The hand of myson there, and the finest palace in the land for the mistress of theprize garden. Does that thought please you, girl? If not, you aredifferent from all the other maidens."

The girl lifted her eyes to the golden coach and met the gaze of Cedricfixed upon her. "I love flowers," she said. "I had once a little gardenin my old home. But now I am too poor to buy plants and bulbs andseedlings. How, then, shall I make a garden to please Your Lordship?"

"I will send you plants and bulbs and seedlings," said the Lord Mayor'sson, leaning forward eagerly. "You must make haste, for September willsoon be here, when the gardens will be judged."

"Thank you, fair sir," said the girl. "I shall love my garden dearly, ifyou will help me."

Now when the Lord Mayor and his son had returned home, Cedric hastenedto keep his promise. For Gerda was the fairest maid in Kisington-by-theSea, and already he loved her so dearly that he hoped she would win theprize and become his wife. He sent her the most beautiful flowers thathe could find, and transplanted from his father's garden its choicestseedlings; he brought shrubs from the city market.

The meadow between Gerda's cottage and the sea was transformed as if bymagic, and became a mass of rare and lovely flowers. The choicestforeign plants, the gayest native blooms, the shyest wild posies, allwere at home in Gerda's lovely garden over which the sea-breeze blew.But Gerda herself was the fairest flower of them all. She watched andcared for her garden tenderly, and like the garden she grew fairer everyday, she was so happy. She did not know how the other gardens grew, forshe did not go to see. But sometimes the Lord Mayor's son came,disguised as a gardener, to see how the flowers fared. And he said thatshe had the most beautiful garden in all Kisington-by-the-Sea, and hehoped that she would win the prize; which was very encouraging.

No one else knew about Gerda's garden. It was far from town, and no onedreamed that a stranger had come to live there. Besides, the neighborswere so busy, each with her own affairs, that they had no time to goabout or ask questions, or gossip; which was a good thing.

No, I am wrong. One person had discovered the open secret. In a villanot far from the Lord Mayor's house dwelt a Countess who was very richand proud. Until Gerda came she had boasted the finest garden inKisington, after the Lord Mayor's, made by a whole army of gardenerswhom she kept at her command. She was quite sure of winning the prize,and it made her very gay, though she cared nothing at all about flowers.She left all the care of her garden to her gardeners and scarcely everwandered down its lovely walks. But she longed to marry the Lord Mayor'sson and live in a palace. It was the palace that she coveted as a prize,and the honor of being the Lord Mayor's daughter; to ride in the goldencoach!

One day this Countess, who had very sharp eyes, spied the Lord Mayor'sson, in his disguise, going past her villa with his arms full of curiousflowers such as were never before seen in Kisington-by-the-Sea. Andbecause she had unusually sharp eyes the Countess knew who he was."Aha!" she said to herself. "This is strange! Cedric is meddling withsome garden. I must look into this!" Secretly she followed Cedricthrough the village and out to the seashore until he came to Gerda'sgarden. And there she saw him walking with the fair stranger up and downamong the flowers. The secret was discovered.

The Countess was a very wicked woman. When she looked over thetransformed meadow and saw the beautiful garden which Gerda had made,she nearly died of rage. She knew at once that against this one her owngarden had no chance of winning the prize. She stamped her feet injealous fury and cried:--

"She shall not have the palace! She shall not ride in the golden coach!She shall not marry the Lord Mayor's son! I will see that she shallnot!"

The Countess stole home with wicked wishes in her heart and wicked plansin her head. The next day but one was the day of the award, so she hadno time to lose. That night when every one was asleep she crept out ofher villa and along the road by which she had followed the Lord Mayor'sson, to Gerda's garden. Everything was quiet and peaceful. The flowerslooked very fair in the moonlight, breathing drowsy perfumes. But thewicked woman cared nothing at all for them. Taking a great pair ofshears from her cloak she moved quickly in and out among the gardenbeds, cutting and slashing the precious flowers and trampling them underfoot.

When she had finished her cruel work, not a single bud lifted its headfrom the ruin. The flower-beds looked as though a tempest had sweptover them. Poor Gerda's garden was quite destroyed! The Countesschuckled as she hurried home through the night: "We shall see now whowins the prize!"

The next day Cedric thought that he would visit the garden of sweetGerda in which he had taken such an interest. Dressed in his gardener'sgreen smock he went through the town, whistling happily as any yokel.But when he reached the little cottage by the sea, he ceased to whistle.Gerda was sitting upon the doorstone weeping bitterly.

"What is the matter, Gerda?" asked Cedric anxiously, and he sought tocomfort her. She could only sob:--

With a sinking heart Cedric ran to the garden close, and there he sawall the ruin that the wicked Countess had wrought.

Cedric's heart was nearly broken. For he loved Gerda so dearly that hethought he could not live if another should win the prize. To-morrowwould be the day that would determine his fate. What could they do?Suddenly he had an idea.

Then Gerda wept more bitterly than ever. She thought that the LordMayor's son was angry with her because her garden was destroyed. Thiswas worse even than the loss of her flowers.

But Cedric was far from angry with her. He had gone away in order tothink and plan. He had one hope. He remembered that he had a friend whohad once promised to help him in his time of trouble. The time had come.

That very night when the moon rose over the water, Cedric went down tothe sea and stood upon a rock and recited this charm:--

Hardly had he spoken the words when there was a little ripple in thewater at his feet, and a beautiful Mermaid appeared, clinging to therock over which the waves dashed prettily in the moonlight. And shesaid:--

"Lord Mayor's son, you have spoken the charm which I taught you, and Ihave come from the bottom of the sea. I have not forgotten how once acruel fisherman caught me in his net, and how you had pity on me andtook me to the ocean and set me free. Then I promised to help you, ifever you should be in trouble. What is your grief, Lord Mayor's son?"

Then Cedric told her about Gerda's garden and its mishap. "Ah! She mustbe the sweet, ragged maid who used to sit upon the rocks and gaze downinto my ocean," said the Mermaid. "She has a good heart and loves thesea. Early this morning I heard her weeping bitterly for her lostflowers and for you. She loves you dearly, Lord Mayor's son, and I loveyou both. What shall I do to help you?"

"Dear Mermaid," said Cedric eagerly, "can you find out the cruel personwho has destroyed Gerda's garden? And can you restore the garden itselfbefore to-morrow? I ask these two things of you."

"It is easy to find the jealous woman," said the Mermaid. "Her you willknow at the right time. But the garden is another matter. However, Iwill do my best for the two whom I love. And now, farewell!" With thatword she slid down the rocks, and in a little splash of spray vanishedinto the sea.

Now came the day when the Lord Mayor was to judge the gardens ofKisington-by-the-Sea. In all the towers the bells were ringing merrily,and on every side the flowers and the fair maidens were blooming theirbrightest. Through the town rode the Lord Mayor in his golden coachdrawn by six prancing white steeds, their necks wreathed with flowers;and behind followed a great rout of townsfolk, eager to see the gardensjudged. In the Lord Mayor's coach sat Cedric by his father's side. Hewas dressed all in white, as became a bridegroom, and in his hands hecarried a huge bouquet of white roses. His cheeks were white, too, forhe was anxious to know what this day should bring, and what maiden wasto receive the bridal bouquet.

Through the town the merry procession moved, and stopped in turn beforeeach garden, at the gate of which a sweet maid waited, her little heartgoing pit-a-pat beneath her prettiest gown. The Lord Mayor inspectedeach garden carefully, making notes in a little white-and-gold book. Andeach fair maiden gazed at the handsome Cedric and hoped that the LordMayor was writing down her name to be his daughter-in-law!

But all the gardens were so beautiful that it seemed impossible tochoose between them. In each the Lord Mayor looked and looked, smiledand nodded,--"Very good! Very good, indeed! Beautiful, beautiful,beautiful! I am truly proud of the fair flowers and the fair maids ofKisington-by-the-Sea. Surely, never such were seen before!"

Then he noted his little memorandum, made a low bow to the maiden, andmounting into the golden coach, whirled away to the next garden. Atlast, when they had gone quite around the village, they came to thevilla of the wicked Countess. The crowd murmured admiringly. There wasno doubt about it; hers was certainly the finest garden of all. When theLord Mayor saw the gay parterres and fountains, the shady alleys andcool grottoes, the wonderful flowers and shrubs growing luxuriantlyeverywhere, he clapped his hands with pleasure and said:--

"Ah! This is Paradise, indeed! Here surely we must look for our bride.Countess, I congratulate you!"

The Countess was dressed in a most costly gown of white satin andvelvet, as though she were sure beforehand that she was to be the bride.She arched her neck and smiled maliciously at the Lord Mayor's son, inwhose eyes was no love for her.

Cedric had grown very white, and he looked at the Countess with disgust.She was so much less fair than Gerda, and her eyes so wicked! Must hemarry her, after all? Yes, unless the Mermaid had wrought a miracle inGerda's ruined garden. To that hope he still clung. "Father," he saidearnestly, "before you judge that this lady has won the prize, rememberthat there is one more garden to visit. Have you forgotten the strangermaiden who lives beside the sea, and how you bade her make a garden asthe other maids were doing? Let us first go there, for she may bewaiting."

"Ho, ho!" laughed the Lord Mayor; "I had in truth forgotten the prettybeggar. It is absurd to dream that she should have a garden worthvisiting after that of our Countess here. Yet we will go to see, and doher justice."

The Countess laughed shrilly. "A beggar's garden!" she cried. "Thatmust, indeed, be a wondrous sight!"

"Do you come with us, my lady," said the Lord Mayor politely. "Sit hereby my son's side in the Lord Mayor's coach. For I trow that here willsoon be your rightful place as his bride."

Now it pleased the Countess to ride in the Lord Mayor's coach; and itpleased her more that she was to see the shame of Gerda and thedisappointment of Cedric when Gerda's pitiful little garden should bejudged. So with a great rustle of satin and lace she gave her hand tothe Lord Mayor and mounted proudly into the golden coach. But Cedric satbeside her pale and silent, little like a happy bridegroom. With asnapping of whips and tooting of horns off they went, rattling throughthe streets of the town, out over the downs toward the sea.

Behind them followed the townsfolk in a great crowd, wonderingexceedingly whither the Lord Mayor was leading them. For they knew of nogarden here. Presently, with another flourish and a cracking of whips,amid the barking of dogs and the shouts of little boys, the Lord Mayor'scoach drew up in front of the tiny cottage by the sea. And the peoplewondered more than ever. For there was no garden anywhere to be seen.

The Lord Mayor alighted, chuckling as if it were all a great joke, andhelped down the Countess, who was grinning maliciously. Last of allCedric descended and stood waiting while the Lord Mayor with his staffknocked three times upon the door.

Presently the door opened, and there stood Gerda, dressed all in a gownof sea-green silk, with a string of pearls about her neck and a pinkcoral wreath in her hair. She was so beautiful that all the people inthe crowd cried "Oh!" with a sound like the wind in the top of a pinetree, and the Lord Mayor himself fell back a step, staring in surprise.The Countess turned saffron yellow and bit her lips with envy; but stillshe smiled; for she knew what she had done to Gerda's garden.

As for Cedric, he stood and gazed as though his eyes were glued to fairGerda's face, until after a bashful silence of a moment she spoke.

"You have come to see my garden," she said. "It is not like othergardens, but I think it is very beautiful. Will you come with me?"

She led them around the cottage to the meadow beside the sea where oncehad been the beautiful little garden which the Countess had destroyed.But what was this? Where were the lawns and hedges and beds of flowers?Where was the green grass? Gone! Over the spot lay a sheet of ripplingwater, reflecting the Summer sky.

"What does this mean?" said the Lord Mayor, turning sternly to Gerda. "Iask to see a garden, and you show me a pool of water. Girl, do you jestat the Lord Mayor?"

"Nevertheless, this is my garden, sir," answered Gerda gently, "and afair garden I think you will find it, if you deign to look closely."

"Nonsense!" said the Lord Mayor crossly, and "Nonsense!" sniffed theCountess with her nose in the air. But Cedric stepped forward with hiseyes shining, for he wanted justice done.

"Father," he begged, "let us go nearer, as the maiden asks, and look atthis which she calls her garden. Mayhap we shall find something new toKisington-by-the-Sea."

For when Cedric saw how sweetly the maid was dressed in colors andtokens of the ocean, his heart leaped with hope that the Mermaid had insome mysterious way redeemed her promise.

"Very well," said the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Let us see what thisfoolish whim betokens. Show us your garden, girl."

Down the slope they went, followed by the gaping crowd which castcurious looks upon Gerda as she walked by the side of the Lord Mayor'sson. "Tell me, what has happened, Gerda?" he asked her, speaking low sothat no one else might hear.

"Last night," she whispered, "I went to bed weeping for my lost flowersand my lost hope. But at midnight I was awakened by the roaring of thesea. It grew louder and louder, and at last a great wave seemed to burstover the sea-wall and come foaming up even to the cottage door. I wasfrightened sorely. But in the midst of my terror I heard a soft voicecry:--

'Fear not, gentle Gerda, and weep no more for your lost flowers. Thegardeners of the sea have come to restore your garden. And there will bea fine gown for you. Look for it upon the doorstone in the morning.Farewell!' That was all.

The sea ceased its roaring, and peacefully I fell asleep. In the morningI found upon the doorstone this green gown. And when I looked upon theplot where late my poor little garden bloomed, I saw this. Behold!"

As she spoke they came to the edge of the pool. A chorus of wonder arosefrom the crowd. The Lord Mayor stood with hands raised gazing down intothe pool; and every one else was gazing too, with eyes of admiration.

The water was as clear as glass, and one could see to the very bottom ofthe hollow which had once held Gerda's unlucky garden. Now the basin wasfloored with polished mother-of-pearl, with beds and borders of coloredshells in lovely patterns. There were lawns of many-hued ocean moss,bordered by shrubs of coral, blossoming in every form and size andcolor,--spikes and clusters, daisy-stars and bell shapes, all thevariety of a flower-garden. Sea-anemones and other living plants openedand shut their tender petals. Delicate sea-ferns like maiden-hair andflowering grasses grew upon rockeries of coral. Hedges of sea-weed,green and brown, yellow and pink, waved their fronds gently in the wateras leaves do in the air. And to and fro among the branches of sea-treesmoved glittering shapes of gold and silver, pink and pale blue. Thesewere the rainbow fishes,--birds and butterflies of ocean, their delicatefins moving more gracefully even than wings can do.

Dear little sea-horses raced up and down the coral alleys, and luminousforms moved among the sea-weed, lighting the garden with livinglanterns. Here and there were grottoes of coral and pretty arbors, andthe garden was thronged with a multitude of curious sea-creatures eventhe names of which no man knows. For the gardeners of Cedric's friendthe Mermaid had scoured the ocean to find the rarest and most beautifulwonders which grow in a deep-sea garden, such as no mortal eye eversees.

After a time the Lord Mayor recovered breath to speak. "Maiden," hesaid, "however you came by this wondrous ocean-garden I do not care toask. It is enough that we have such a treasure in Kisington-by-the-Sea.Among all our lovely gardens it is the fairest. Among all our curiousflowers these living ones are rarest. I therefore judge that to youbelongs the prize."

Then a great cheer arose from the border of the pool where the folk werebending eagerly to study the wonders in the waters below. Even themaidens whose gardens had not won the prize cheered,--all except theCountess. She ground her teeth with rage, for she saw that her wickedplot had been in vain.

The Lord Mayor stepped forward and took Gerda's hand. "Come hither, myson," he said, "and take this fair stranger to be your bride. In thisspot where her little cottage stands, I will build for you a beautifulvilla."

With a happy face Cedric took Gerda's hand in one of his, and with hisother gave her the great bouquet of roses. "I obey my father's wish," hesaid. He needed not to tell that it was his own wish, too.

Thereupon every one cheered again, waving caps and handkerchiefs, for noone could help loving the beautiful pair and wishing them happiness.Only the Countess stood silent and frowning, looking ugly as a goblin.

When the shouting had ceased, Gerda stepped forward and spoke sweetly tothe people. "Kind friends," she said, "I am a stranger to your town, yetmy garden has been judged worthy of the prize. But I am sorry for thefair maidens who have so long and faithfully tended their lovelyflowers. To me it seems that they also should have a reward. In mygarden grows a hedge of plants bearing precious fruit,--the pearloysters, which you see gaping with the white pearls in their mouths. Iwould have each maid come and take one for her own."

There was great rejoicing and murmuring of thanks as the maidens cameforward one by one and bent over the pool to choose each a preciouspearl. The Countess alone hung back. "Come hither, Countess," said theLord Mayor, when he saw that all others had been rewarded save her only."Come hither and choose your pearl. You should, indeed, have the finest,for your garden would have won the prize but for these sea-wonders bywhich it was outdone."

"Choose, fair lady," said Gerda, smiling kindly. But the Countess wouldnot come. "I have pearls enough of my own," she snapped. "I need nocharity from a beggar!"

"What!" cried the Lord Mayor, frowning. "Such words are not meetlyaddressed to my daughter-in-law. Nay, they show an evil heart,Countess!"

"Say that she shall do this, Father," cried Cedric, stepping forwardeagerly, for he seemed to hear a secret whisper from the Mermaidprompting him; "else we shall think that she was the wicked one whodestroyed another's garden in the hope of winning the prize herself."

At this challenge the Countess came forward sullenly to the edge of thepool. To take the nearest pearl she had to bend low, until her face drewclose to the water. Suddenly, the watching crowd saw a flash and asplash and heard a shrill scream. The Countess rose, shrieking horribly.A huge crab had fastened himself to her nose, and not easily could shebe freed from this unwelcome ornament! At last they tore away the crab,but the tip of the Countess's nose was gone, and she wore a scar always,even to the end of her unhappy days.

But Gerda and Cedric lived happily ever after in the beautiful villawhich the Lord Mayor built for them on the edge of their wonder-gardenbeside the sea. And sometimes the Mermaid herself came there to visitthem, and to bring them some new precious thing from the watery worldwhere she dwelt.

IX. THE KING'S COAT OF ARMS

The Red King could not disguise his pleasure in the tale of theWonder-Garden, though he grumbled when he found there was to be nofighting in it. When Harold had finished reading the story, Red Rexpatted him on the head and said gruffly,--

"Good, my boy! You do, indeed, read a tale as well as one would wish.But tell me, now; in what part of Kisington is the place where thisGerda had her Wonder-Garden? Is it far from here?"

"Nay, not far from here," said Harold. "About a mile from our library,by the sea, stands the villa where Gerda and the Lord Mayor's son livedhappily ever after. I could show Your Majesty the place, if you were notunfortunately at war with our city."

"I would fain see that place," said Red Rex thoughtfully. "I have afancy that Gerda, indeed, came from my land. I have heard a legend thatone of my great-great-grandfather's own sisters was stolen by thegypsies, and carried away to a far country. It might well be that sheran away from those gypsies, and escaped to this Kingdom, and that itwas she whom the Lord Mayor found living lonely by the sea."

"It might well be so!" said Harold. "Oh, Your Majesty! How exciting!Then the Lady Anyse, who lives now at that villa, may be your ownfar-off cousin."

"She is tall, and handsome, and has red hair like Your Majesty," saidHarold. "I have seen her often when I went to visit the Garden."

"Not quite the same as in the day of Gerda and Cedric," answered Harold,"but yet a wonder-garden. It is called 'The Aquarium' now, and is one ofthe public gardens of Kisington, given to the town by the will of Cedricand Gerda. The Lady Anyse has it under her care."

"Verily, I should like to visit it and see both its wonders and mylong-lost cousin," muttered the Red King.

"What a pity that you are making war upon our city!" exclaimed Harold."There are so many fine things that cannot be while there is war."

"Yet war must be," answered Red Rex. "And I must be at it straightway."He rose and flourished his sword with a determined air.

"But at least you will spare the east of Kisington, where theWonder-Garden lay, and not fire gums or arrows in that direction?"suggested Harold, pointing eastward. The Red King followed the directionof his finger.

"Yes, that I will promise," said Red Rex, after a moment's hesitation."I promise that; lest otherwise I might injure my own blood royal.Because I am King I must not forget that!" He swelled his chest proudly.

"I know that motto well; and what of a lion passant?" inquired Red Rex."A lion passant is one of the emblems in my own royal coat of arms!"

"Then, Your Majesty has not heard the tale of the Lion Passant?" askedHarold, feigning surprise. "It is one of the best known in our land. Youwill find your royal lion in the arms of our city of Derrydown; andthere is a tale to account for that."

"Yes, Your Majesty," agreed Harold. "Besides, I cannot tell it by heart.I should have to get the book from our generous library. I can read itbetter; there is so much in the manner of the writing. It is a pity YourMajesty is in such a hurry to fight, or I might bring that book hitherto-morrow and read you the pleasant tale."

The Red King fidgeted. "I am losing time at a terrible rate!" hegrowled. "Think of what harm I might be doing! When have I wasted hourslike this, you wheedling boy?"

The Red King grew excited. "I must, then, hear about him!" he cried. "Itis my duty.--What ho, there!" he shouted to his men who were makingready to continue the siege. "I have changed my mind. We will not fightfor another day. Take this boy back to the city, and proclaim continuedtruce until he returns to us."

"Your Majesty is wise," said Harold with shining eyes. "I think you willnot be sorry to hear the tale of the Lion Passant."

So the crisis was delayed for another day; and Kisington blessed Harold.They made a feast at the poor widow's cottage from presents sent by theLeading Citizens. Richard and Robert sat at the head of the table, oneon each side of Harold, and all his other boy and girl friends sat downthe sides of the table, and he told them all about his adventure withthe besieging King. One and all begged him to let them go with him onthe following day. But this, of course, Harold could not promise. He wasthe only one who could read well enough to charm the War-Lord. They allwished that they had learned to read as well as Harold.

When on the morrow Harold returned to the Red King, this is the storywhich he read from one of the peaceful books of Kisington--the story ofThe Lion Passant.

X. THE LION PASSANT

A long time ago, in one of the narrowest side-streets of Kisington,stood an old curiosity shop, full of strange things. It was a darklittle den inside, so dark that the outer sunshine made the old shopmanblink as he stood in the doorway talking with the stranger. The strangerwas a Medicine Man, and he had just sold a bottle of his famous Elixirof Life to the old shopkeeper.

"Yes, sir," said the Medicine Man, as he turned to go, "you will find myMagic Elixir all that I claim it to be. It will bring back youth andbeauty to the aged. It will give sight to eyes that see not, hearing todeaf ears, speech to the tongue-tied and motion to limbs that have nevermoved before. It will also cure whooping-cough."

"I hope so," said the old man in an eager voice. He had heard only oneword in six of the stranger's talk. "I hope so, for I need it very much.Shall I take it all at once, or--" But already the Medicine Man washalfway down the road, with the gold coin which the old man had givenhim safe in his deepest pocket. The old man returned into his shop,blinking more than ever, and stumbling over the piled-up rubbish as hewent. It was an abominably crowded little room. Each corner, each shelf,each hook in wall or ceiling was occupied. Everything was piled high orfilled up with something else.

In the midst of all kinds of curiosities, the Lion Passant stoodwaiting. He had been waiting there so many years that the Old CuriosityShop man had quite given up hope that any one would ever come for him.The Lion was very old; older than the shop, older than the old man whokept it, older than anything else in the shop--and that was saying much.

The Lion was cobwebby and scarred; but, notwithstanding, he was a finefigure of a beast. He had been finely carved out of oak and colored awarm gules, though now somewhat faded. He was carved in the attitude ofmarching along a parti-colored pole of gules and silver. His dexter pawwas raised in the air, his red tongue hung out and his tail was curvedgracefully over his back. There was something which I cannot exactlydescribe of grand and dignified about the Lion Passant,--what the bookscall a "decayed gentility."

The old man stumbled and blinked his way toward the door at the rear ofthe shop. He was eager to try the Elixir of Life and become young again,and he hurried faster than was wise in the shadowy labyrinth. Just as hewas opposite the Lion Passant, he caught his foot in a sprawling chairand stumbled forward, with both arms stretched out to save himself. Awayflew the bottle of Elixir,smash! against the head of the Lion Passant.The glass shivered into a thousand pieces, and the precious golden dropswent trickling down over the carved beast, over the table, onto thefloor, where it made a dusty pool about the feet of a cracked china cat.

"Oh, me! Oh, me!" groaned the old man. "All my precious youth wasted,and no money left to buy more! Oh, me! What an unlucky day it is!" Andhe stumbled out to tell his wife all about it. Now, as soon as he hadleft the shop, strange things began to happen there.

"Marry, come up!" exclaimed the Lion, licking his red tongue. "I ama-weary of this. My leg is asleep." And he set down the dexter paw,which he had been holding in that position for four hundred years ormore.

"Wow!" cried the China Cat from the floor. "My cracks are growingtogether again! I believe I am as good as new!" And she arched her backand yawned.

The Lion lashed his tail once, to be sure that he could really do it,and looked about the shop in disgust. "I must away!" he said.

"Oh!" cried the Cat, lazily, beginning to lick her paw, as if she hadalways been doing so since the discovery of China. "You are so restless!Where are you going?"

The Lion stepped gingerly down from his striped pole to the table, andfrom there to the floor. As he did so, he seemed to increase in size, sothat by the time he had reached the shop door he was as large as anordinary lion. "I am going to seekThem," said the Lion, with dignity."I am, as you see, a Lion Passant, the crest of a noble house. Manyyears I have been separated from my people. I have waited for Them tocome for me. Every time the shop-bell tinkled it has waked an echo ofhope in my heart. But They do not come; I must, then, go to Them." Hesighed deeply.

"I shall seek Them in the halls of the mighty," said the Lion proudly."They were of the noblest in the land, I remember."

The Lion became thoughtful. "The name?" he repeated. "The name? I haveforgot the name. But I was the crest that They bore in battle, thefigure on their shields, the carving above their hearths."

"Yes, but times have changed, folk say," objected the Cat. "How shallyou know your people among the New Ones?"

"I shall recognize Them," said the Lion confidently. "I shall know Them,the proudest, the mightiest, the bravest, and most fair. Besides, isthere not the family tradition? Once, in the far ages before even I wascarved, the first knight of our line had an adventure with a lion; hencemy figure upon Their crest. I know not the tale complete; but this Iknow--that from that time on, no one of Them has been able to see alion, to speak or hear the name, without sneezing thrice. So it was inthat day, so it has been ever since."

"That, indeed, is something definite," yawned the Cat, as the Lionstalked out into the sunshine. "Well, I'm glad I have no tradition butone of comfort." And she curled herself up on a piece of ancient goldbrocade.

So the Lion went forth to seek his people. He had not gone far before heovertook the Medicine Man, who had sold no Elixir since leaving theCuriosity Shop. The Lion padded up behind him so silently that the mandid not hear him until he was quite close; then the Lion gave a gentleroar.

"Abracadabra!" cried the man, turning pale and shaking till his teethrattled. He was so ignorant that he did not know a Heraldic Device whenhe saw one. But he had seen pictures in books and knew that thisbrilliant red beast was no ordinary lion.

"Kind youth," said the Lion grandly, lifting his paw and curving histail in the old way, "I owe you much. Your Magic Elixir has given melife and motion. If there is aught I can do for you, I shall be glad."

The man's face was full of wonder. "You owe much to the Elixir?" hecried. "Oh, pray explain!"

So the Lion explained. When he had finished the simple story, theMedicine Man's face was illumined with a great idea. "It ismagnificent!" he cried. "It is beyond my wildest dreams. For, to tellyou the truth--but why tell the truth? This justifies me, certainly.Now, if you would but go with me as a Living Testimonial?"

The Lion bowed. He did not like the idea, for it threatened notoriety;but he felt a sense of duty. "Noblesse oblige," he murmured. "It isOur motto. Nothing can hurt my pride, if it has a foundation upon truth.I will go with you until I feel that my debt is paid."

"It is well!" said the man. And they journeyed together. Naturally, theappearance of a warm crimson lion caused considerable excitement in thestreets of Kisington. Folk crowded around him and the Medicine Man, andwhen they heard his story, they bought eagerly of the Elixir. "He is thecrest of a noble house come to life!" they whispered among themselves."What noble house?" The Lion listened eagerly for the answer; but headswere shaken in reply. No one recognized the device.

There was one thing which annoyed the Lion. This was the tendency of theMedicine Man to exaggerate the powers of his Elixir. As time went on, hebegan to add the oddest stories to the one he told about the Lion. Wasthat not wonderful enough? The Lion was astonished, shocked, outraged.He protested, but in vain. The habit of exaggeration, once contracted,becomes a terrible master. The Medicine Man seemed unable longer tospeak the truth.

One morning when he was telling his wicked lies to a company of trustingwomen and children, the Lion rose from the center of the eager circleand stalked away from the Medicine Man. "Noblesse oblige," he said.And they never saw each other again. I dare say the seller of the Elixirand his descendants have been doing business in the same way ever since.

Now, the Lion journeyed for many months through the Kingdom withoutfinding a trace of his family. He scanned carefully the entrance toevery great palace and castle. He caused some confusion in traffic bydashing out to examine the crests emblazoned upon the panels of thechariots which passed him on the road. He even halted foot-passengers toinquire, courteously, if he might look more closely at certain devicesupon chain or brooch or bangle which had caught his eye. Especially, hesurprised with his attentions several persons who had sneezed violentlyin his presence. But in vain. He failed to find the clue he sought.

Folk would fain have helped him in his search; for his manners weregentle and gracious, and his bearing unmistakably noble. Folk liked him.Many would have been glad to prove themselves, through him, scions ofthat great family which he undoubtedly represented. But all theirefforts to sneeze at the right time were fruitless. They went awaycrestfallen before his reproachful gaze. Sometimes, the Lion would spy alovely face, or a manly figure, which appealed strangely to him."Surely," he would say to himself, "surely, this noble-looking person isone of Them. Something seems to tell me so!" And he would assume hisheraldic pose, with dexter paw lifted and eloquent tail curved high,waiting wistfully for the sneeze of recognition to follow. Sometimes,alas! came, instead, a laugh of scorn, or an unkind word. He learned thatnoble figures and lovely faces do not always adorn like natures.

Well, many months passed by. Footsore and weary, the Lion still traveledupon his quest. He felt very old and lonesome, homesick for his marblehalls, hopeless of finding them. He came, one noon, to an inn on theoutskirts of Derrydown Village. Over the door of the inn a signboardcreaked and flapped in the wind. The Lion looked up. He beheld upon thesign the picture of a red lion! The traveler was greatly moved."Surely," he thought, "this must be the arms of some great family in theneighborhood--perhaps my ancestral castle is hereabout!" But when heexplained things to the Landlord, that worthy dashed his hopes oncemore. No family with such a device was known in those parts.

"However," said the Landlord, eyeing the Lion appraisingly, "I have anidea! If you will remain with me for some hours, I will show yousomething. The Prince and his train are to pass here on their way to theAncient Wood, where they will hunt. In the company will be all thegrandest nobles of the Kingdom. Surely, some of your family will beamong them. Here is a splendid viewpoint! Do you remain beside my doorin your grand attitude. You will see and be seen. If your folks arethere, you will be sneezed at; which is what you want. It will be,beside, a grand advertisement for me--a real red lion guarding the RedLion Inn!"

The Lion agreed. That night, when the Prince's cavalcade passed throughDerrydown, huge and red, with lifted paw and curved tail, the beaststood at the door of the Red Lion Inn. Many stared in wonder. Manypaused to inquire. Many entered and partook of the dainties which MineHost had prepared against this very happening. The Prince himselfpaused, pointed, and asked a question. The Lion's heart leaped wildly!There was a curious expression on the Prince's face; it seemed drawn andtwisted--was he about to sneeze? Alas! No. With a harsh laugh, thePrince gave the Lion a cut with his whip and bounded past; after him,the last of his followers. The Lion's skin smarted and his heartwrithed. He kept his temper with difficulty; but--it was the Prince.Noblesse oblige.

When they were out of sight, his head drooped. There was no one in allthat gallant company who belonged to him. But the Landlord had reaped arich harvest from the Lion's presence. When once more the village wasempty of nobility, he came to the Lion, rubbing his hands, contentedly."Old fellow," he said, "I have had profit from you. Now, I will give yousupper and a bed in my stable for the night. And why should we not makethis arrangement permanent? You see, your folks are gone. The family hasrun out and no one any longer bears or recognizes the crest. You are anorphan; but you can still be of use to me. Why not become the supporterof my inn?"

"Gramercy!" quoth the Lion, with dignity. "I will accept the supper, forI am very hungry. But as for sleeping in the stable, that I cannot do! Iprefer a bed on one of the fragrant haycocks in your meadow."

"To that you are welcome, if you please," said the Landlord graciously."And, to-morrow, we will talk again of the other matter."

So the Lion had his supper, and then went wearily to sleep on a haycockin the thymy meadow. He was sad and disillusioned, and the Landlord'swords had taken away his last hope. He began to wish that he had nevercome alive. "To-morrow," he said, "I will go back to the Old CuriosityShop, and see if the old man can un-medicine me. For a crest without afamily is even a more forlorn thing than a family without a crest!"

The Lion wakened with a start. "Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!" soundedin his ear. He sprang to his feet and looked around. Opposite him stooda little girl in a ragged gown, with a basket on her arm, staring at himwith big, round eyes. She did not seem in the least afraid. The Lion wasannoyed. He had been dreaming of his noble family, and it was verydisappointing to be wakened by this beggar with her mocking "Ker-chew!"

"Away with you, child!" he said. "I am weary and peevish. Do you notknow better than to awaken a sleeping lion?"

"Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!" The child sneezed again so violentlythat she nearly fell into the haycock.

The Lion was agitated. "What can this mean?" he thought. "It must be anaccident which has caused her to sneeze at the word. I will try again."He began firmly, "When a lion--" But again he was interrupted by theviolent sneezing of the little maid as soon as the word had passed histeeth.

The Lion shivered. Could this really be? Was it possible that thisvagrant was an offshoot of the noble family which he had been seeking?If so, he must be in no hurry to claim relationship! The child put herhand into her basket, smiling.

"Good Lion," she said, "Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew! I like you. Willyou have a bit of bread?" And she held out to him a fragment of herluncheon.

The Lion was touched. He did not like bread, but he could not refuse achild, and he ate it painfully. "What is your name?" he asked at length.

The child pointed over her shoulder. "Near the Ancient Wood, yonder,"she said. "I came to Derrydown to the market. I have sold my dolls; nowI am going home with the money."

Claribel nodded. "Rag dolls," she said. "My mother made dresses for thevillagers. Now I make dolls out of the pieces in the old rag-bag. Itbuys me bread."

The Lion's heart was softened. "You are so little, Claribel!" heexclaimed. "Have you no one to take care of you?"

The child shook her head. "My mother is dead. I am alone in the world,"she said.

"But have you no relatives--no one of noble kin in some palace, somecastle?" the Lion cried eagerly.

The child laughed. "I know of no castles," she said; "no kindred at all.I never had any, I think."

The Lion gave a groan. "I will go back to the Curiosity Shop!" he saidwhimsically. "Good-bye, child!" He started away. But, turning for a lastlook, he saw Claribel, with her eyes full of tears.

"Do not go!" cried the child. "I like you so much, dear Lion--Ker-chew!Ker-chew! Ker-chew!"

The Lion's heart melted. "You are so little!" he said, "too little to begoing on these roads alone. I will see you home." So they took the longroad together, the child skipping happily beside the Lion, with her handin his red mane. And the farther they walked together, the more the Lionliked Claribel, who sneezed whenever she spoke his name, but looked athim with kindly eyes.

They came at last to the hut where Claribel lived alone. It was a tinycottage on the edge of the wood. The Lion looked at it long and hard. Itwas so different from the castle he had hoped to find! The child pulledhim by the mane, and he went in. The hut was very poor, but spotlesslyneat and clean.

Claribel led the Lion to the fireplace and began to blow meager sparkswith the bellows. "I will keep you warm and give you bread to eat. Youshall stay and live with me and be my dear big watch-dog!" she said.

The Lion sighed. But he could say nothing; he was so tender-hearted. "Iwill run away in the night," he promised himself. And then, on themantel-stone above the tire, he spied a roughly-scratched shield. On theshield was the small figure of a lion passant, with dexter paw raisedand curved tail. Below it was scrawled the motto, "Noblesse oblige."

Claribel saw him staring at it with big eyes, and began to laugh andsneeze. "Yes, my mother loved it," she said, "and I love it, though italways makes me sneeze just as you do. That was why I liked you from thebeginning. Some day I shall learn what the words mean; then I shall berich and happy."

The Lion did not run away that night. He slept with his nose on his pawsbeside the fire and dreamed grand dreams of castles and fair ladies; ofgold-broidered banners on whichhe was emblazoned in crimson glory,and of the battle-cry, "Noblesse oblige!" echoing all about him.

But in the morning he was awakened, for the second time, by the sound ofthree soft little sneezes. "Excuse me!" said Claribel's dear littlevoice; "I tried not to, but I could not help it. I was so afraid youwould not be here when I woke up. It might all have been a dream. But assoon as I saw you, I had to sneeze;--it is very odd!" She laughed andlaughed, and the Lion roared in sympathy.

"I shall not go away," he said. "I want to be a real Supporter, not aheraldic one. I shall stay and try to help you learn the meaning of themotto over the fireplace."

"Oh, I am so happy!" cried Claribel, clapping her hands. "Already, Ihave thought of a way you can help me very much. I have always wanted tomake a lion doll--Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew! But I never before hadany lion--Ker-chew! Ker-chew! Ker-chew!--to copy, except that flat oneover the fireplace. Now I can shape them after you and sell them in themarket, and we shall grow rich, oh, so rich!"

And so it befell in the days that came thereafter. For Claribel's cleverfingers snipped and pieced and seamed together the bits of cloth, untilshe had a lion so like her new friend that she almost sneezed her headoff when he was finished. And, lo! She had invented a new kind of toy,which was speedily the rage over the whole kingdom.

In time, the making of lion-dolls became the great industry ofDerrydown, whereof the people had much profit, especially Claribel,whose idea it was. And the folk of the town loved her dearly, becauseshe had brought prosperity to them all. And they were devoted to theLion, who went to and fro among them with gracious dignity, servingClaribel and serving them, so busy that he had no time to worry aboutescutcheons.

No family so poor but it had its little lion of carefully pieced rags,which it fondly prized; not merely because it was a quaint toy andindestructible, but because it was to them a token of their noble,friendly beast and of the motto which he had taught them. (But they hadtaught him many things, also.) And in latter days a crimson lion becamethe seal of the Guild of Toy-Makers in that shire. And a new traditionbegan to grow about the Lion Passant, concerned entirely with hisservice to the people.

XI. HOPE

"Dear me!" said Red Rex, when Harold had finished this story. "I neversaw one of those lion-dolls which your tale mentions. I would that I hadone to present to my little girl."

"Have you a little girl?" exclaimed Harold in surprise. "Why, I had noidea that you were the father of little children."

"Well, why not?" asked the Red King crossly. "I have a dear little girlof seven, and her name is Hope."

"Oh, if you have a dear little girl of your own, how can you make war ona city where other dear little girls live?" cried Harold. "I cannotunderstand!"

"No, you cannot understand, because you are only a child yourself," saidthe Red King. "When you are grown up you will feel differently."

"Your Majesty, I do not think so," declared Harold, shaking his headdecidedly. "When I have learned all the books in our library, and seenall the countries there are to see, and done all the interesting thingsthere are to do, there may be time to think about war. But these othermatters will keep me busy all my life, I should think."

"Rubbish!--Can one purchase a lion-doll in your city?" asked Red Rex,changing the subject uneasily.

"Yes," said Harold. "Every child in the city owns a lion-doll. YourMajesty ought to visit the great factory at Derrydown, near whereClaribel lived,--where the dolls are still made. It is close by theAncient Wood, where there was such good hunting, and where David had hisadventure with the Old Gnome, you know."

"No, I do not know the Old Gnome," retorted the Red King peevishly. "Howdo you expect me to know all the legends of your precious country? Weknow nothing about this Kingdom in my own warlike land."

"Then why should you want to fight us?" asked Harold. "If you had takenthe trouble to know us better, you could then judge whether we deserveto be fought. But I think you would like our people if you knew them."

Again Red Rex changed the subject. "What of the hunting in this AncientWood?" he asked. "When I have taken your city, and after it the rest ofyour Kingdom, I will go there to hunt."

"There was good hunting," said Harold, "once upon a time. In those daysone had to beware the wicked Gnomes of the Great Fear. That was why theOld One fled."

"What about this 'Old One,' and this 'Great Fear'?" asked the Red King."I suppose that is another story which you want to read to me."

"Nay; I do not care to read the tale unless Your Majesty wishes it,"said Harold with dignity. "But if Your Majesty desires a lion-doll foryour little Princess, I can get one for you and return with it and thestory at the same time. There is a dear little girl in the story. Ithink your daughter must be very like her."

The Red King gnawed his red mustache and frowned forbiddingly at Harold.At last he slapped his knee and gave a grunt of assent. "Well," said he,"fetch me the doll and the book. I may as well give my soldiers anotherday's holiday. But in sooth, this has gone on too long! To-morrow's talemust positively be the last. I hope there will be much fighting in it.Your tales are something too peaceful for my taste. Look, now! Your citymust be destroyed in short order, because I have set my heart on it."

"Will Your Majesty promise me one other thing, beside the truce, till myreturn?" begged Harold, looking up in his face with a winning smile.

"Promise me, Your Majesty, for the sake of your little dear daughter,whose name is Hope, that when you fight again you will spare that partof the city where the schoolhouse stands. Robert and Richard and all myfriends are there."

"It is the west part," answered Harold, pointing in the oppositedirection from that in which he had declared the Wonder-Garden to havebeen.

Harold had no difficulty in getting a lion-doll for the Red King.Indeed, when they knew for what purpose it was intended, and what Haroldhad gained by his clever winning of the promise from Red Rex, everychild in town wanted to send his or her lion-doll to the littleprincess, whose name was Hope.

They came to Harold's home from all parts of the city, bringing theirdolls, until the High Street was crowded. But the Librarian and the LordMayor were unwilling to accept any of these, for none of them was quitefresh and new. Most of them had an arm or a leg dislocated, or baldspots on their yellow fur; which proved how fond the children were ofthese noble pets, how much they hugged and fondled and frayed them.

The Lord Mayor himself went to the largest shop in Kisington and in thename of the children of Kisington purchased a royal lion-doll, nearly asbig as a real baby lion, with a patent voice inside which made it cry"Gr-r! Gr-r!" when you twisted its luxuriant tail. And this was to bethe toy of the little Princess Hope.

With this wonderful toy under one arm and a basket under the other,which contained among other things a green-and-gold volume from thelibrary, Harold kissed his mother and went once more to the camp of RedRex. He found the monarch there alone, save for his bodyguard. Hissoldiers had gone to enjoy themselves in the neighboring woods, gladindeed of their continued holiday.

When Red Rex saw the great lion-doll he clapped his hands on his kneesand roared with laughter. And it was the first time Harold had heard theWar-Lord laugh,--a terrible sound! But when Harold showed how to makethe lion itself roar, by screwing its tail, the Red King fell over onhis back and nearly died of laughing.

"Oh! Oh!" he cried, wiping the tears from his bronze cheeks. "How thelittle Princess will squeal when I twist that lion's tail! How she willlaugh when she hears the creature roar!" And he went off in another fit.

The Red King took out a huge purse from his girdle. "And now, what shallI pay you for this wonderful toy?" he asked. "I suppose it is worth manygolden crowns?"

"It is worth your promise to the children of Kisington, Your Majesty,"said Harold. "It is a gift from them to your little Princess whose nameis Hope. The children hope you will remember your promise to them."

"Nevertheless, Kings do forget sometimes," murmured Harold. "But thislion will remind you of your kingly crest, and of the Lion Passant whosemotto you know so well."

"And now, shall I read to Your Majesty the story of which we spoke?"asked Harold, opening his basket and taking out thegreen-and-gold-volume.

"Begin," commanded the Red King, settling himself cozily on his back,with his head lying on the soft fur of the new lion-doll. "But unlessthere is a deal of fighting in it I shall go to sleep. I am very weary."

Thereupon Harold began to read in his best manner the gentle tale ofThe Hermit Gnome.

XII: THE HERMIT GNOME

Long, long ago, in the farthest corner of the Kingdom, was a mountaincovered with a pathless forest. Human folk never came this way. Theshadows of the forest were gloomy, and the sounds of the forest werestrange, and the name of the forest was full of dread. Men called it theGreat Fear. For it was here that the Gnomes lived and did their wickeddealings.

The Gnomes were ugly and deformed and black; no larger than theElf-People, but instead of Fairy kindness their minds plotted evil. Theylived in the hollows and cracks of the mountain. Some of them camped outunder the great, poisonous toadstools which they loved, as they lovedeverything dangerous to man. And all day long they dreamed, all nightlong they wrought mischief. They were at the bottom of many of the evilhappenings in Kisington and elsewhere. For they could wreak their evilmagic from a long distance.

Now, of the race of Gnomes there was one apart. He was a queer littlefellow, the oldest, the ugliest, and the crookedest of them all. Hisface was wrinkled like a brown walnut; and his little misshapen body wasbent under a hump which was the biggest part of him. But his mind wasnot evil. He was quite harmless and mild and lazy, and he hated the diredoings of his fellows who would neither mind their own business norleave him to his.

For centuries things went on from bad to worse in the Great Fear. Atlast the Old Gnome could bear it no longer.

"I am very old and tired," he said. "It is almost time for me to curl upin the long sleep. But I cannot sleep here! I should have bad dreams. Iwill leave the Great Fear, which owes none of its name to me. I will goand become a Hermit, as men say."

So spoke the queer little Gnome. And one bright noon when all the otherGnomes were dreaming with shut eyes,--for they hated the daylight,--hestumbled away as fast as his crooked little legs could take him southfrom the Great Fear. Now, beyond this was a meadow, which was theborderland across which human folk dared not approach the haunt of theGnomes. And beyond the meadow again was an Ancient Wood, which, thoughhe did not know it, was on the outskirts of Derrydown. Thither the OldGnome betook himself, and found it very good indeed. Like the Great Fearit was dense and shadowy and cool. In places it was very dark. But therewas scarcely a spot whence you could not, when the sun shone, catchspeckled gleams of gold upon the moss; or, when the moon beamed, spy awealth of filtered silver. For the Ancient Wood was intersected hitherand yon by paths of the woodchoppers. And sun and moon love to peer downthrough the man-made windows in the green roof of trees and beautify theways which human feet have trod.

The Old Gnome peered and pried about the Ancient Wood, seeking ahermitage. At last he came upon the hollow stump of a tree, hidden in aclump of feathery fern. It was thatched with green lichens without, andcarpeted within in a mossy pattern of green and gray and scarlet. Littlehard mushrooms, growing shelf-wise one above another, made a windingstaircase up to the doorway. Portieres of finest spider-wrought tapestryswayed before door and window and draped the dark-hued walls; whileacross one corner hung a hammock of heavier web, the very thing for aweary Gnome's resting-place.

As soon as the Old Gnome spied this stump he cried,--"Ha! This is thespot for me! Here will I make my hermitage. And when the time comes formy long sleep, here will I rest forever." For you must know that theGnomes do not die, being immortal like the Fays; but unlike them growingolder and dryer and drowsier until they are fit only for eternal sleep.

The Old Gnome was soon at home in his cell; and very peaceful and cozyhe found it. For several days he lay and swung in his hammock, growingcomfortably drowsier and drowsier, too lazy even to gather berries forhis food. He would soon sleep without waking; and by and by the moss andlichens would grow over him, too, and he would become a silent part ofthe Ancient Wood,--a little green mound such as you yourself may haveseen many a time.

But one day while he was snoring, with his wrinkled hands foldedpeacefully on his little chest, he heard a sound which made him open hiseyes with a snap. It was the noise of an axe chopping. The Old Gnome satup nervously and peered through his knot-hole window. A woodcutter wasat work at the very next tree.

"Hello!" said the Old Gnome, staring open-eyed; "That must be aman!"For this was the first mortal he had ever seen.

Forgetting his drowsiness, he climbed up his staircase and peeredclosely at the creature from behind a curtain of fern.

It was a strong young man, who wielded the axe heartily against thegiant oak. The Old Gnome watched him curiously, admiring the lithe sweepof his arm and the rhythmic bend of his body.

"They are goodly folk, these men!" he sighed, looking down on his ownmisshapen frame. "How can those evil brothers of mine care so much tovex and trouble them?" And he turned over and tried to go to sleep; butthe sound of the axe kept knocking at something within him.

Suddenly, the man made a mis-stroke. The axe slipped and came down uponhis sandaled foot. With a cry he dropped the axe and fell to the ground,lying very still and white.

"Ha!" frowned the Old Gnome, "the work of my brothers! Some one of themmust have charmed that axe. But how strange he looks! Doubtless it ispain, which I do not know. Ah, pain must be something very sore!" And hefelt a throb of pity.

He hobbled to the spot where the woodman lay. Across his leg was a deepgash and on the moss were drops of crimson. The Old Gnome looked at themwonderingly, for the Gnomes are bloodless. "How beautiful the color!" hecried, and he touched his finger to one of the drops. Immediately athrill went through his cold body, and he seemed to feel a fresh draughtof life. New impulses came to him.

"These men!" cried he, "how weak they are, after all! How greatly theyneed aid. I can help him now,--even I!" And his ugly little facewrinkled into the first grin it had known for centuries.

He called to mind his long-forgotten skill in herbs, and hunted in theAncient Wood for certain plants of healing. One he crushed and laid uponthe wound to stanch the blood. Others he set out in the ground closeunder the young man's nose, so that they seemed to be growing naturallythere.

Presently the woodman opened his eyes and stared about him dazedly, butthe Old Gnome had hidden himself. As he gained strength, the woodmantore a strip of linen and bound it upon his leg. Then, sniffing thearomatic herbs which grew conveniently at hand, he plucked a bunch withwhich to make a lotion, and with it limped painfully from the wood.

The Old Gnome watched him go with curious eyes. "I wonder if he willreturn," he said to himself. And he decided not to sleep until he shouldknow how it fared with the young man.

It was not many days thereafter before the woodman returned to theforest. The lotion had been wondrous helpful, and had healed him morequickly than he had dared to hope; for he was eager to be at work again.Limping slightly, for the wound had been a sore one, David began workanew.

Day by day the Old Gnome watched him, half jealously at first. But themore he watched the more he liked the ways of the intruder. The woodmansang at his work; his eyes sparkled and his lips smiled as if withpleasant thoughts.

The Old Gnome found himself smiling too, unseen behind the fern. "I willnot sleep yet awhile," he said, "for there is work to do."

In the night when the Ancient Wood was silent he toiled long andheartily at the crafts wherein he was wise. And the woodman tasted theresult. For the Old Gnome made the berries to ripen more quickly in thatglade. He caused delicious mushrooms to spring up all about. He coaxed aspring of fair water from the bed where it slumbered underground andmade it gush into a little basin where David came upon it gladly. Hecaused medicinal herbs to grow, and certain fragrant plants that droveaway the mischievous insects sent by his brother Gnomes. All this theOld One did while David was away; and the young man did not know. But hewas very happy and busy. Now, one day the young man finished hiswoodcutting, and lo! he had made a clearing in the Ancient Wood largeenough for a tiny house; but the Gnome did not know this. David lookedabout him at the spring and the flowers and the berries of the pleasantplace which the Old Gnome had prepared, and said, "It is good!"Forthwith of the logs which he had felled he began to build the houseitself.

When the Old Gnome saw what David was about to do, indeed he was angry!For he said,--

"Oho! I did not bargain for this. This is my wood! I want noneighbor,--though a merry visitor was not unwelcome. What is to becomeof my solitude, of my hermitage? And how am I to sleep, with anotherrestless creature living close by forever and ever?"

For several days he sulked in his cell and would not work. But finallythe merry sound of the young man's whistle keeping time to the wheeze ofsaw and the knock of hammer made the Old Gnome smile again, and he saidto himself,--

"Well, what of it? True, I shall have a neighbor for good and all. Buthe will be alone and speechless, since there is no one with whom tochatter; and he will never trouble me. Let him build here if he will."

David builded his house; and a pretty little place it was, for he was acareful workman and his heart was in it. When all was done he laid theaxe aside, hid the hammer and saw, put on fine new clothes and went awayacross the meadow, whistling happily as a bird. It was the Gnome's firstchance to see the inside of a man's dwelling, and he lost no time ingoing there, you may be sure. He found many things to wonder at, fornaturally it was very different from a Gnome's hermitage. But nothingsurprised him more than the wreaths of flowers which David had hung overdoor and window and fireplace, over bed and chairs and table, so thatthe place was like a fragrant bower prepared for a beloved guest.

The Old Gnome shook his head. "Strange folk, these men!" said he. "Why,and why, and why?" But he brushed up the sawdust, which David hadforgotten in a corner; and he re-piled the kindlings on the hearth,which David had hastily put together for a fire. He neatly spread thebed, which David had clumsily prepared; and he made tidy the kitchenwhich, in his eagerness to don his new clothes, David had quiteoverlooked. Then the Old One went back to his cell and lay down in hishammock, chuckling. "How surprised the fellow will be!" he said.

At night the Old Gnome heard voices in the wood, and sprang up from hishammock angrily. "More of them?" he cried. "Am I to hear human prattlearound me, after all?" And he peered from the balcony of his cell witheyes almost as fierce as those of his brother Gnomes in the Great Fear.He stared and stared at what he saw. For the young woodcutter wasreturning in his fine clothes, and with him was a fair maiden, also inholiday gear. Both looked very happy and smiling.

They entered the open door, and the Old Gnome watched to see David'ssurprise when he should discover how matters had improved in hisabsence. But the woodman was thinking so much about his pretty new wifethat he had eyes for nothing else. However, she looked about her withsurprise and pleasure, and the Old Gnome heard her say to her husband,--

"Ah, David! What a tidy housekeeper you are! Or is it some Fairy who hasmade the house so neat and ready for me? Surely, no one but a beautiful,kind Fairy would sweep the floor so spotless and make so smooth the bed.Oh, I am glad we have a Fairy friend!"

What David replied the Old Gnome did not hear. He was filled withwondering delight. A Fairy! The sweet little thing had thought it mustbe a beautiful Fairy who had done this work! The Old Gnome lookedwhimsically down at his bandy legs and ugly body, and sighed and smiled.

"Ah, if I were but a Fairy!" he said. "Fairies are beautiful and good;they live forever young and gay, and there is no end to the kindnessthey may do. But I!"--he sighed again,--"a Fairy, indeed!" And hehobbled away to his cell, thinking kindly of the little wife who of allthe world had spoken the first word of praise for him; and of the strongyoung man who loved her.

Now happy days followed in the little house in the Ancient Wood; happydays, too, for the Old Gnome in his hermit's cell. For he was busy allthe time doing kind deeds for his new neighbors; without their knowingit. Sometimes he set the table for the morning meal. Sometimes he helpedin the churning and made the butter come quickly. Sometimes he blew thefire like a little bellows; a hundred and one things he found to doabout the cottage. And it was his reward to hear the young wifesay,--"Oh! David, the good Fairy has been here again. What a dear, good,beautiful Fairy it must be!"

The Old Gnome was very careful to keep his ugly face out of sight, youmay be sure.

Days went by, and the Old Gnome was ever more and more busy in the hutof the young people, so that really I do not know how they would havedone without him. He was scarcely ever in the hermitage nowadays, exceptfor a few hours' sleep by daylight; and he scarcely found time to lookafter his own affairs, such as they were, so little of a hermit was hebecome! But every night the young wife set out a bowl of curds and creamfor the beautiful Fairy who helped her; and sometimes David left halfhis luncheon of bread and cheese in the woods, for his unknown friend.The Old Gnome was growing fat and merry because of this good fare; buthe seemed as little like a Fairy as ever.

The months went by; and one day a surprising thing happened. The OldGnome, sleeping in his hammock, was wakened by a strange, shrill littlecry. He sat up and listened wonderingly. It was broad daylight, but atthe risk of being seen he ran as fast as he could, and climbing up thevine of eglantine peered in at the chamber window whence came the cry.And there lying on the young wife's bed was a wee pink baby! The OldGnome looked at it long and earnestly; and the more he peered the morehe liked the look of this newest little neighbor.

"It is as beautiful as a Fairy!" he thought. "I must be good to it, andperhaps it will grow to love me."

From that time the Old Gnome had no rest at all. Unseen--wrapped in acloak of shadows--he sat for hours while the baby was asleep, fanningthe flies away from its little face. When it was restless, he kept theclothes over its tiny feet, drawing them up as fast as the baby kickedthem away. And when the young wife came, she would say,

"See, David! Our Fairy has been watching over our baby, just as itwatched over us. Oh, now I feel quite safe from those wicked Gnomes wholive in the Great Fear!" At this the Old Gnome would chuckle from thecorner where he lurked, and where only the baby's bright eyes couldpierce the cloak of shadows. It was a great day for the Old Gnome whenfirst the baby smiled at him. It was a still greater day when she heldout her little arms to him, and the Old One knew that they were friends.Soon she was lisping words in her shrill voice; and one of the firstthings she tried to say was "Fairy friend." She looked straight at theOld Gnome when she did it, and a thrill went through him at the words.She saw him; yet she thought he was a Fairy! Poor little mite! Hedreaded the day when she should know the difference. But the baby seemedto love him more and more every day, and the Old Gnome's cell became herfavorite playhouse.

When she grew old enough to talk, she and her mother spoke often of theFairy friend; and the little girl told strange tales of his doings whenno one but herself was about, for still he shyly crept into his cloak ofshadows when the grown-up folk were near. When the mother asked whatlike the Fairy was, she shook her head. "I cannot tell!" she wouldanswer. "Not like you, Mother dear; but beautiful also, and good andmerry."

Now, the woodcutter's wife was a very good woman, but she was curious.The more she heard about the friendly, mysterious Fairy whom her childalone had seen, the more she longed to see him for herself. This was notkind; for she knew he did not wish to be seen. But she was sorelytempted. One day she heard the little one out in the Ancient Woodlaughing and talking merrily with some one. "It is the Fairy!" said themother, and she picked up her toes and crept noiselessly to spy uponthem.

There was the baby sitting on a bed of moss; and there, plainly seenwithout his shadow-cloak, was the Old Gnome, turning somersaults for herand dancing on his crooked legs to make her laugh.

But the mother did not laugh at what she saw! She burst out of thebushes with a cry and seized the baby in her arms. "My child!" shescreamed. "Oh, the wicked Gnome! Help, David, help!"

Her cry summoned the woodcutter, who came running up, very pale, withhis axe in his hand. "What is this?" he asked. "Who is injuring mychild?"

Sobbing, his wife pointed to where the Old Gnome cowered, blinking,caught at last in the sunlight outside his cell.

"A Gnome!" cried David in horror. "One of the pests from the Great Fear!What are you doing here, Monster? How shall we pay you to go away andleave us in peace?"

"I will go away," said the Old Gnome humbly, "though I belong not to theGreat Fear, and I came here before you. My wish is not evil you-ward. Itis I who am a friend. But I will go." With a kind look at the baby heturned away.

But the baby struggled down from her mother's arms and ran after himcrying,--"No, no! Do not go away, dear, beautiful Fairy! Mother! Father!It is the friend whom we all love. I have heard you praise him. Do notsend him away."

"It is no Fairy, child!" said the mother. "It is one of the ugly, wickedGnomes who do only evil. Let him go!"

But the child struggled and shrieked. "He shall not go! It is thebeautiful Fairy who helps us. I have watched him doing all the kindthings you say the Fairy does, and I love him dearly. He shall not go!"The father and mother looked at each other, then at the shrinking Gnome."Is this true?" they demanded, "or is this some wicked Gnome-trick whichhas bewitched our child?"

The Old Gnome bowed meekly. "Alas! I am no Fairy, as I fain would be,"he confessed. "But I loved to hear you call me so. I am a Gnome; but Ihave done no evil, only good, so far as my skill went. The happy daysare over now. The child knows the truth. No one will ever again think mebeautiful or good. I had forgotten how old I was; I had almost grown tofeel young again in the merry, busy days of service. But now the timehas come indeed for me to lie down in the long sleep. I will go away andfind a new cell, and curl me up in a happy dream which will lastforever."

But the baby burst into violent weeping. "Oh, he is beautiful,beautiful, the kind, dear Fairy! Do you not see how beautiful he is,Mother, Father?" she cried.

The Old Gnome turned and looked at her, smiling sadly and shaking hishead with a tender light in his eyes. "No, no!" he said, "not beautiful;only loving!"

"But yes!" cried the mother, staring amazedly. "Think, David, of all hehas done for us. He does, he does look beautiful to me!"

David stared also. "From the day my foot was wounded," he said, "onlygood has befallen me here. And if he has done it, the kind littlefellow!--Yes, yes! He does, indeed, look beautiful to me!"

"Ah!" cried the child, laughing and clapping her hands. "I was right! Iknew he was our kind Fairy, all the time. If he is good, he is no Gnome.It is only a name. If he seems beautiful to us, then he is beautiful,indeed. He is a Fairy! He shall live here with us and we will love himforever."

And lo, as she spoke, the Old Gnome looked wonderingly down at his body.He seemed to have changed. He was no longer crooked and old, but lightand airy and beautiful. Over his head arched gauzy wings and his dresssparkled like dew. Also he felt young and full of power to do things hehad never done before.

"I believe I am a Fairy!" he cried joyously. "And I may live and loveand serve forever, and never be tired or sleepy!"

XIII: HAROLD'S LUNCHEON

When Harold finished reading the story of the Hermit Gnome to the RedKing, he looked up to see how his listener had enjoyed the tale. And loand behold! Red Rex was fast asleep! He lay on his back in the afternoonsunshine, and a noise came from his half-open mouth rather like theGr-r! of the lion-doll, when its tail was screwed.

"Well!" said Harold to himself; "I cannot return to the city until HisMajesty wakes up; for that would not be polite, and his bodyguard wouldnot allow it. I may as well make myself comfortable and be patient. Thelonger he sleeps the longer time we shall have in safety to wait forhelp from our King."

Harold opened the little covered basket to replace the green-and-goldvolume from which he had just been reading, and in doing so caught sightof the luncheon which his thoughtful mother had packed, in the fear thathe might be hungry ere his return. He took out the folded napkin andpeered eagerly below. There was a huge wedge of apple pie! Harold lickedhis lips and his eyes sparkled, for there was nothing of which he was sofond as apple pie. "I must have at least a bite this minute!" he said tohimself, and opening his mouth very wide he prepared to bite into thejuicy wedge.

"Pitikins!" he cried, "what is going on? Is this part of the story?" Forat first he did not know that he had been asleep.

"No, Your Majesty," said Harold; "it is a piece of one of my mother'sfamous pies. Will you share it with me?"

"That I will!" said Red Rex, sitting upright and stretching out his handeagerly. "It looks like apple pie. There is nothing in the world I likeso well as apple pie."

"Your taste is the same as mine," said Harold merrily, carving the wedgewith his knife into two equal triangles. "I believe Your Majesty nevertasted better pie than that. It is made by a famous rule."

Red Rex munched his share greedily, sitting opposite the munchingHarold. And as they ate they eyed one another, not unfriendly. When hehad finished, the Red King said,--"By my sword! That is the best pieceof apple pie that ever I tasted, or hope to taste! Your mother must be awondrous cook, Harold."

"That she is!" cried the proud boy. "And she is the best mother who everlived. She made six of these wonderful pies for me, because she knowsthat I like them so much. I saw them this morning on a shelf in thepantry."

"Six juicy apple pies!" murmured Red Rex, smacking his lips at thethought. "Where do you live, boy?"

"I live on the High Street, which leads from the market-place, in alittle house next the butcher's shop," said Harold, wondering why theKing asked.

"I will remember that," said Red Rex, nodding his head solemnly. "I oweyour mother a happy memory for that piece of delicious pie."

"It is made from the recipe for the King's Pie," said Harold. "No wonderyou approve it, being like His Hungry Majesty of old."

"The King's Pie!" exclaimed the surprised monarch. "Pray, what do youmean by that?"

"It is another story, Your Majesty," said Harold, grinning. "I think itis the best story of all. But I suppose you would not care to hear itto-morrow."

"Oh, go along with you and your stories, you young beguiler!" cried RedRex with a great roar, at the same time poking Harold playfully with thepoint of his sword. "I see that you would keep me here forever at thewalls of your city, listening to your tales."

"Not forever," said Harold, with an air of candor. "I do not think thateven the library of Kisington could furnish new books for as long a timeas that,--though, to be sure, you might hear some of the same ones overagain. But, indeed, you have no idea what treasures still remain in thatcasket! This tale of the King's Pie is one of the rarest, I think."

Red Rex seemed to be thinking very earnestly about something. "TheKing's Pie," he murmured, more than once. "H'm! H'm! It is of adeliciousness! Ha! Ho!" And he smacked his lips again, thinking of thetantalizing wedge which was now no more. Suddenly he spoke: "I havedecided to wait yet another day," he announced. "I will hear that taleto-morrow. And if it contains a recipe for the famous pie, I shall wantyou to copy it off for me. Bring pen and paper, my lad."

"That I will!" said Harold joyously. For this meant still another day'sdelay; and the time was now near at hand when they might expect to seehelp coming from the Capital City where their good King Victor lived.This was Wednesday, when he took leave of the Red King.

XIV: THE ROBBER

Harold was very weary when he returned to the cottage that evening; andhe was still more weary before he tumbled into bed. For in the mean timehe had to learn his school lessons for the following day, and tell theother boys all about his adventures. He slept like a top; quite like atop,--for sometimes during the night there came from his little roombeyond the kitchen a sound like a humming top.

It was about midnight when Harold was awakened by a peculiar noise. Itwas a queer, clicking, tapping noise that seemed to come from thekitchen close by. Harold sat up in bed and listened. Some one wascertainly moving about in the kitchen. It was probably his mother, hethought. And yet, what could his mother be doing there at that time ofnight? Stealthy steps crossed the kitchen; just then Harold sneezed,--hecould not help it. There was silence.

Presently he heard a noise in the pantry, which was next his own littleroom. Harold rose and crept noiselessly out of his chamber. Yes, therewas someone in the pantry. The door was open,--something not allowed inhis mother's kitchen rule. An uncertain light flickered behind thepantry door. Harold could not see plainly, but there certainly was someone meddling with the dishes on the shelves. Suddenly a silhouette camebetween Harold and the light, and he saw the shape of the intruder. Itseemed to be a very tall old woman in bonnet and shawl, and her greathand was carrying something from the pantry shelf to the mouth withinthe bonnet.

Harold felt himself growing very angry. Who was this stranger who daredto force a way into their cottage and eat up the hard-earned victualswhich his mother had painfully prepared? Such doings were rare indeed inKisington. It was a wicked thief, a robber, a house-breaker! Even thoughit was a woman, she must be punished.

There was a key in the lock outside the pantry door. Quick as a flashHarold made a leap for it, and turned it in the lock. At the same timehe shouted to his mother who slept in the room upstairs,--"Quick! Quick,Mother! There is an old woman in the pantry eating up the food! I havecaught her at it!"

In a few minutes his mother's feet came pattering down the stairs. Butin the mean time what a hubbub was going on in the pantry! Evidently thethief had no mind to be discovered and taken in her criminal act. Therewas the sound of overturned boxes and barrels, the crash of crockery andglass. The thief was smashing the pantry window!

It did not seem possible that the thief could do this, it was such atiny window. But, sure enough! when the door was opened, and Harold andhis mother crowded into the pantry, they were but just in time to seizethe hem of the old woman's shawl, as her last leg squeezed through thecasement. Harold held on to the shawl tightly, however, and off it camein his hands. It was a very nice shawl.

"Who ever heard of a thief in Kisington!" exclaimed the mother. "Whocould it be? I never saw a shawl like this. Let us examine what she hastaken, the wicked old creature!"

Harold got a candle, and presently returned to the pantry, where hismother was groping among the smashed crockery for some other clue to thethief. When the light flickered on the pantry shelves the mother gave ascream of surprise and anger. "My six beautiful pies!" she exclaimed."The thief has stolen my six beautiful apple pies! Oh, what a wicked oldsoul!"

"Those lovely pies!" groaned Harold. "See, Mother, she has gobbled oneand left the empty plate. The others she has taken away with her."

"I wish they may choke her!" cried the mother angrily. "Now you willhave none to take to your Red King to-morrow. I was going to save thefinest of all for him, in the hope that it would soften his hard heart."

"It will never soften his heart nor please his stomach now, Mother,"said Harold ruefully. "And still more I regret the other five pies whichI know you meant for me. When shall we ever see such pies again?"

"They were made from the last of the flour and apples and sugar sent youin gratitude by the Leading Citizens," said Harold's mother sadly. "I amsorry your reward is thus wasted, my poor boy! What spiteful neighborcould have spied them through the pantry window and planned thismidnight raid at our expense?"

Harold shook his head mournfully. "I do not know any one in Kisingtonwhom I could suspect," he said. "Come, Mother, let us go back to bed.To-morrow we will look further into the matter. We have at least thishandsome shawl as one clue, which if it does not find us the thief willbe very nice for you to wear."

Now in the morning before school Harold took the shawl and went to hisfriend the Librarian and told him what had happened during the night.The Librarian was greatly shocked to hear of a theft in town and wentwith Harold straight to the Lord Mayor.

The Mayor examined the shawl carefully and shook his head. "This is verystrange!" he said. "This is no shawl made in Kisington, or in ourKingdom. It is a strange foreign shawl, and very valuable. I am glad tobelieve that the thief must have been a foreigner, or a gypsy, or avagrant of some sort. But how did she find her way into our guardedcity? I must look into this! Meanwhile, my lad, since you have sufferedloss and damage to your pantry and to your feelings the Leading Citizenswill see that you are made whole at their expense; I will answer fortheir gratitude to you."

"My Lord," said the Librarian, patting Harold affectionately on thehead, "our boy has done so well already in handling this savage King,may we not expect still more from him now that the time is so critical?King Victor should soon be coming to our aid. If we can but postpone thesiege for at least another day! Suppose Harold should invite Red Rex,under a flag of truce, to visit and inspect our Library?"

"Good!" cried the Mayor. "When you go to Red Rex this afternoon, Harold,my boy, see what you can do further in the matter."

"I will try, my Lord Mayor," said Harold. "But Red Rex is growing veryimpatient. I fear that I cannot much longer keep him amused with ourtales."

"Clever lad! You have already done right well," said the Librarian,embracing Harold proudly. "And I dare say you will be able to do yetmore. Now, run along to school; for we must not forget our everydayduties, even in these times of excitement and danger."

So Harold went to school, and you can imagine how many questions he hadto answer at recess time. The Librarian went to his books and the LordMayor to his desk. And Harold's mother went down on her knees, cleaningup the wrecked pantry.

XV: THE BANDAGED HAND

As soon as school was over on Thursday afternoon, Harold started oncemore on his errand to the War-Lord. As usual, he was accompanied to thecity gate by a crowd of schoolboys and girls who envied him his luck andwished that they could go all the way with him. But this, naturally, theCity Fathers would not permit. One boy carried Harold's coat, andanother his strap of schoolbooks. A third brought the basket withHarold's luncheon, while Robert carried the flag of truce,--proud boy!But Richard, Harold's special chum, was the proudest of all. For he wastrusted with the precious volume from the library containing the storyof the King's Pie, which Harold was to read to the War-Lord on that day.All gave a great cheer when the gate was unbarred; and all the littlegirls waved their handkerchiefs when with a gay shake of his hand Haroldstepped out into the danger zone.

Red Rex received him as usual, sitting upon the green hillock. Haroldnoticed straightway that the War-Lord's hand was bound up with abandage, and that he had a cut over his left eye, which made him lookfiercer than ever.

"But I thought there was a truce!" exclaimed Harold, gazing at thesetokens of trouble. "How came you to be thus hurt, Your Majesty?"

"Nay; it was an accident," said the Red King gruffly. "Say no more aboutit, pray. Well! I have no time to waste to-day. Things are coming to anissue. Let me hear your story as quickly as possible,--if you havebrought one, as I think."

"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Harold. "I have brought you the spicy storyof the King's Pie, which I think you will like. I had meant, in order toillustrate the story, to bring you also one of the veritable pies. Butthat, alas! I am now unable to do. My mother made a pie especially forthis purpose; but it is gone with others which were to be mine, and forwhich I grieve on my own account. A wicked thief stole them all duringlast night. So I fear you will not appreciate the story so well asotherwise you might have done."

"Perhaps I shall," said the War-Lord whimsically. "Perhaps I shallappreciate it all the more."

"Now, what means Your Majesty by that?" cried Harold, wondering verymuch at these strange words. "It was such a fine pie! A large, fat,juicy, rich, crisp, crusty pie,--just such a one as the King enjoyed inthe story."

"Yes, I know!" said Red Rex. "Go on with the story, right speedily, withno more details of that tantalizing, vanished pie!" And he licked hislips and shifted his seat as he sat upon his hillock.

Obediently Harold opened the book which his chum Richard had handed tohim just inside the city gate, and began to read the toothsome tale ofThe King's Pie.

XVI: THE KING'S PIE

There was great excitement in Kisington; for the King was coming withhis new young bride, and the town was preparing to give them a famouswelcome.

Hugh, the Lord Mayor, was at his wits' end with all that must be done.As he sat in the Town Hall holding his aching head, while a mob ofdecorators and artists and musicians, costumers, jewelers, and floristsclamored about him, there came to him a messenger from Cedric, his son.Cedric was one of the King's favorite friends, and he knew His Majesty'staste well. So he had sent to the Lord Mayor a hint as to how the Kingmight best be pleased. Being a man of few words, this is how his messageran:--

Long pondered the Lord Mayor over this mysterious message, reading itbackward and forward, upside down and crisscross, and mixed up like ananagram. But he could make nothing of it except what itstraightforwardly said: that the King was exceedingly fond of pie.

Now, in those days pie meant but one thing--a pasty; that is, meat ofsome sort baked in a dish covered with dough. At that time there was nosuch thing known as a pie made of fruit or mincemeat. Pie was not even adainty. Pie was vulgar, ordinary victuals, and the Lord Mayor wasshocked at his son's even mentioning pie in connection with the King.

"Pie, indeed!" he shuddered. "A pretty dish to set before a King on hiswedding journey! How can pie be introduced into my grand pageant? TheKing can get pie anywhere, in any hut or hovel along his way. What hasKisington to do with pie?"

The Lord Mayor snorted scornfully, and was about to dismiss his son'shint from his mind, when he had an idea! A Pie! A great, glorified,poetic, symbolic Pie such as could be carried in procession decoratedwith flowers! That was a happy thought. The Lord Mayor dismissed everyone else and sent for all the master cooks of the city.

It was decided to accept Cedric's hint for what it was worth, and makePie the feature of the day. There should be a grand pageant of soldiersand maskers and music. And, following the other guilds, last of allshould come the cooks, with their ideas of Pie presented as attractivelyas might be, for the edification of the King. Moreover, the Lord Mayorsaid, in dismissing the white-capped company:--

"To whichever of you best pleases His Majesty with the pie, I will givethis reward: a team of white oxen, a hundred sacks of white flour, and ahundred pieces of white silver."

"Hurrah!" shouted the cooks, waving their white caps. Then away theyhurried to put on their thinking-caps instead and plan for the buildingof the King's Pie.

Now, among the cooks of Kisington there were two brothers, Roger andRafe. Roger, the elder, had one of the hugest kitchens and shops inKisington. But Rafe, the younger, had only a little old house on an acreof land under a little red-apple tree, with a little red cow who gave alittle rich cream every day. Rafe was very poor, and no richer forhaving a brother well-to-do like Roger. For the thrifty cook had littleto do with Rafe, whose ways were not his ways.

Rafe cooked in his little kitchen for the poor folk of the town,charging small prices such as they could pay. Indeed, often as not hegave away what he had cooked for himself to some one who seemedhungrier. This is a poor way to make profit of gold, but an excellentway to make profit of affection. And Rafe was rich in the love of thewhole town.

Roger was among the cooks whom the Lord Mayor summoned to consult aboutthe King's Pie. But Rafe knew nothing at all of it, until one afternoonhe was surprised by a visit from his brother, who had not darkened hisdoor for many a day.

"Well, Brother," said Roger, briefly, "I suppose you are not busy, as Iam. Will you work for me for a day or two? In fact, I need you."

"I have a great task at hand," said the master-cook; "a task that needsextra help. You must come. Your own work can wait well enough, I judge."

Roger sneered. "Your poor people, indeed! I am cooking for the King!Will you hesitate now?"

"Cooking for the King!" cried Rafe. "Ah, but he is not so hungry as myneighbors will be to-morrow without their rabbit-pies."

"Rabbit-pies! It is a pie for the King that I am making!" shouted Roger,in high dudgeon,--"such a pie as you and your louts never dreamed of.Now what say you? Will you come?"

"Very well then," growled Roger. "Cook for your beggars first; but cometo me to-morrow. Every cook in town but you is engaged. I must have yourhelp."

"I will come," said Rafe simply, and Roger bade him a surly good-byewithout thanks or promises.

The next morning, when his own simple tasks were done, Rafe hied him tohis brother's kitchen, and there he found great doings. Roger wassuperintending the preparations for baking an enormous pie. A group ofmasons had just finished building the huge oven out of doors, and abouta score of smiths were struggling with the pie-dish, which they hadforged of iron. It was a circular dish six feet across and three feetdeep; and it looked more like a swimming-tank than anything else.

"Yes!" growled Roger. "Now get to work with the other men, for the crustmust be baked this morning."

Three assistant cooks in caps and aprons were busy sifting buckets offlour, measuring out handfuls of salt and butter. Others were practicingwith long rolling-pins made for the occasion, so big that a man had toroll at each end. On the ground lay a great round piece of tin, six feetacross, pierced full of holes.

"That is to be the lid of the pie," answered the cook. "See, they arelifting it onto the dish now. It will have a strong hinge, and it willbe covered with crust."

"And what is to fill this marvelous pie?" asked Rafe, wondering stillmore. "Tender capon? Rabbits? Venison? Peacocks? What is suitable for aKing? I do not know."

"Ah, there you show your lack of imagination!" cried the cook. "Masteris a great man. This is a poetic pie. It is to be filled with flowers,and on the flowers will be sitting ten beautiful little children, pinkand sweet as cherubs, dressed all in wreaths of flowers. And when thepie reaches the King, the top will be opened, and they will all begin tosing a song in honor of Their Majesties. Is it not a pretty thought?"

"Nonsense!" cried the cook testily. "Would you make out our King to be acannibal?"

"Nay," said Rafe; "that is why I doubt. However, I am here but to assistin this colossal plan. Hand me yon bag of salt."

All day long at Roger's kitchen the cooks worked over the King's Pie. Atnoon came a band of ten mothers, each with a rosy, smiling baby. Theyplaced the children in the great shell to see how they would look. Everyone cried: "Charming! Superb! But ah! we must not tell any one, forRoger has paid us well, and the other cooks must not know how he is towin the prize to-morrow!"

Weary and unthanked, with his meager day's wage,--a little bag of flourand a pat of butter, sugar, and a handful of salt,--Rafe went home,musing sadly. "A team of white oxen; a hundred sacks of white flour; ahundred pieces of white silver,--what a prize! If only I could earnthese, I should be rich, indeed, and able to help my poor neighbors. ButRoger will win the prize," he thought.

He spread on the table his frugal supper. He had emptied his larder thatmorning for a sick woman. He had but a few apples and a bowl of cream.It was the first food he had eaten that day, for his brother hadforgotten to bid him to his table.

As he was taking a bite from one of the rosy-checked apples, there camea tap at the door.

"Enter!" cried Rafe hospitably. The hinges creaked, and there totteredin a little, bent, old woman in a long black cloak, leaning on a staff.

"Good evening, Son," she said, in a cracked voice. "Are you a man ofcharity, or will you turn away a poor old soul who has had nothing toeat for many hours?"

Rafe rose and led her to the table. "Sit down, Mother," he said kindly."Sit and share my poor supper: a few apples from my little tree, a supof the cream which my good little red cow gives me,--that is all; butyou are welcome."

"Thanks, Son," said the old woman, and without further words she beganto eat. When she had finished she sat for a few moments looking into theempty bowl. Then she said:--

"I!" cried Rafe, astonished. "How can I make a pie? You see all I havein my cupboard. There is nothing but a little bag of flour, a pat ofbutter, a handful of sugar and salt."

"It is enough," said the stranger. "Son, I will show you a secret. Youhave been kind to me. Now I will tell you that which until this day noman has known. You shall make the King a pie, indeed!"

"But, Mother," interrupted Rafe, smiling, "you do not know what mannerof pies are being made. There will be many, though I have seen butone--a giant pie, a glorious pie, all golden crust and flowers and pinklittle babies who sing!"

"Humph!" grunted the old woman. "A pie for a pasteboard King. Why notcook a pie to tempt a hungry man?"

"The King is, indeed, a man," mused Rafe. "But how shall I make a piewithout viands of any sort?" (As I have said, to speak of a pie in thosedays meant always a dish of meat or game or poultry.)

"I will tell you," said the old woman. "Have you not a tree of redapples? Yes, luscious apples of a goodly flavor, for I have tastedthem." She leaned forward, whispering earnestly: "Make your pie of them,my Son!"

"Apples! A pie of apples!" cried Rafe. "Who ever heard of such a thing!"(And at this time, indeed, no one had.)

"Nay, you need not laugh so scornfully," said the old crone. "You shallsee! I will help you."

At her command Rafe fetched out the bag of flour, and the butter, salt,and sugar. Then he went to gather a basket of apples, while the oldwoman mended the fire and mixed the dough. Wonderingly he watched herpare the apples, core and slice them, and cover all with a blanket ofcrust laid softly over, but not tucked in at the edges as for anordinary pasty. Soon the pie was baked, all flaky and brown. When itcame smoking hot from the oven, the old woman slipped a knife under theblanket of crust and lifted it aside.

"See," she said, "the apples are steamed and soft. Now I will mash themwith a knife and mix the butter and sugar generously therein. This onemust ever do, Son, last of all. This is the crown of my secret, the onlyrecipe for a perfect pie."

Rafe watched her curiously, by no means convinced. Then, from a pouchsomewhere concealed in her robe, she drew out a strange round nut, suchas Rafe had never seen before.

"This is the final blessing," she said. "See, I will grate a little ofthis magic nut into the pie." Forthwith it was done, and a whiff ofspicy fragrance reached Rafe's nose, and, more than anything, gave himconfidence in this strange new pie.

Without a word the stranger drew from under a cover a little pie bakedin a tiny tin, an exact copy of the other. "Eat," she said: "eat andjudge if my secret be worth keeping."

Rafe sunk his teeth into the warm, crisp crust and ate eagerly. His eyessparkled, but he spoke no word till the last crumb was gone.

"Oh!" he said, "it is a magic pie! Never such have I met before! Never,in all my life!"

The old woman nodded. "A magic pie," she said. "And still better whenyou serve it with the yellow cream of your little red cow."

"It is a pie for a King!" said Rafe. "But shall I be allowed in theprocession, Mother?"

"All the cooks in Kisington who choose may march with that guild," saidthe old woman. "Bear your pie proudly in your own hands, wearing yourcap and apron. I will send some one to walk beside you and carry the jugof cream. She shall be here to-morrow when you milk the little red cow.Treat her kindly for my sake."

"Mother, how can I ever thank you--" began Rafe. But, with a quicknesswhich seemed impossible to her years, the old woman had slipped out ofthe door and was gone.

The next morning bright and early Rafe went out to milk his cow. Andthere beside the cow stood a young maid, the fairest he had ever seen.

"Good morning, Rafe," said the maid, dropping a curtsy. "I am Meg, and Ihave come to help you carry the King's Pie." She smiled so sweetly thatRafe's heart danced a jig. She was dressed in a neat little gown of bluewith a white apron, and had set a dainty cook's cap on her flaxen curls.And she wore red stockings and shoes, with silver buckles. From underher apron she drew a little blue jug. "See, I have brought this to holdthe cream," she said, "and it is full of red strawberries for yourbreakfast. Milk the little red cow, Rafe, and then we can eat and begone as soon as I have skimmed the cream of yesterday."

In a happy daze Rafe did as she bade. Merrily they breakfasted togetheron a wheaten loaf and milk and berries which the maid had brought, as ifshe knew how hungry Rafe would be. Then Meg skimmed the cream for theblue jug, and they were ready to start. Rafe, in his white cap andapron, bore the precious pie, while Meg walked along at his side. Amerry, handsome couple they were.

When they came to the market-place they found a great crowd assembled."Ho, Rafe! Rafe!" people shouted to him, for every one knew and lovedhim. "Come here! Come with us!"

But Rafe answered: "Nay. I am going to walk in the procession with theother cooks. I have a pie for the King."

"A pie! A pie!" they cried good-naturedly. "Look at Rafe's pasty! Ofwhat is it made, Rafe? Grasshoppers or mice?" For they knew how poor hewas. But Rafe only smiled and pushed his way to where the cooks weregathered. They, too, greeted him with jests. But he insisted that hemust march with them. So they gave him place at the very end of theline, with the little maid at his side. But when he saw the wonderfulpies all around him, he sighed and shook his head, looking ruefully athis own simple offering. The little maid, seeing him so look, said:--

"Never mind, Rafe. You are giving your best to the King. No one can domore than that."

The people waited. The hands of the great clock in the market-placecrept slowly around until they marked noon. Every one began to feeluneasy, for it was close upon the dinner-hour, and the long processionhad not moved. The King and Queen were late.

At last there sounded the blast of a trumpet, which told that the Kingand his bride had arrived, and that the Lord Mayor had led them to theirseats on the balcony in front of the Town Hall. Every one gave a sigh ofrelief. But then there was another long wait, while the hands of theclock crept on--on, and the people watched and craned their neckseagerly. The Lord Mayor was making his speech, and it was very long.Finally arose more shouts and huzzas,--not because the speech was good,but because it was ended. And presently another trumpet gave signal forthe procession to start.

Off they went, through the streets full of cheering, hungry people.Soldiers and bands of music led the way; then came the maskers and theflower-maidens, the city guilds and all the arts and crafts. Finallypassed along the yoke of snowy oxen, with ribbons in their ears, drawinga white wain in which were the bags of flour and silver, the prize to begiven the best pie-maker of Kisington. When the company of white-cappedcooks came within sight of the King, he laughed merrily, rubbing hishands, and said:--

"Cooks! Now we shall have something worth while, for I am growinghungry, indeed!"

Then came the pies. And such pies! Carried on the shoulders of sturdyboys, drawn on floats by teams of ponies, wreathed in flowers and stuckover with banners and mottoes, the pies passed along before the hungryKing. And not one of the pies was real! Gradually the King's smilefaded.

There was a wonderful big pie fashioned like a ship,--rigged with mastsand sails and manned by sailor-dolls. There was a fine brown pasty likea bird's nest, and when it passed the King, off came the cover, and outflew four-and-twenty blackbirds croaking lustily.

The Queen nudged him and said: "'Sh! Behave, Your Majesty!" But she alsobegan to look hungrier and hungrier.

There passed a pie in a carriage drawn by six mules. It seemed pipinghot, for steam came out of it. But when it reached the King it blew upwith abang! scattering showers of blossoms over the royal party.

"My faith!" cried the King; "methought this was the end of all things.But it seems not. Here come more and more empty pies!"

One pie had a musical box inside and played a sweet tune as it passedthe King. In one was hidden a tiny dwarf, who popped out like ajack-in-the-box when the Queen pulled a golden cord.

Still the procession moved on, and so did the hands of the clock; andthe King's hands moved to his ample girdle, which he tightened sharply.But both he and the pale young Queen were too polite to ask the LordMayor for buns or something to sustain them.

The pie which caused the greatest excitement as it passed along, drawnby four white horses, was that of Roger, the master cook, who walkedproudly beside it. When it came opposite the King the carriage stopped,the cover was lifted, and ten beautiful babies on a bed of roses wavedtheir little hands and began to sing.

The Queen leaned forward eagerly, forgetting to be hungry. "How sweet!The darlings!" she murmured. "Oh, this is the best of all!"

But the King grumbled: "Humph! They look good enough to eat, but--myfaith! I hope that this is the end, for soon I must eat something, or Ishall become a cannibal!"

"What comes here?" he cried. "This looks sensible!" It was Rafe and thepretty maid bringing up the rear of the procession. Side by side theywalked in cap and apron, he bearing the small, delicately browned pie,she with a jug of yellow cream. No one paid any attention to them, butclosed in around them, following Roger's chariot.

When Rafe and Meg came opposite the King and Queen, they turned and Rafebowed low, holding up the pie as high as he could. The pretty maidcurtsied gracefully, and offered the cream-jug with a winsome smile. Thecrowd was fain to hustle them on; but the King struck the floor with hisstaff and pointed eagerly at the pie.

"Hold!" he cried. "What have you there?" Every one stopped and began tostare. Rafe bowed again.

"Apple pie!" cried the King. "Who ever heard of an apple pie! A pieshould be of savory meat. But of apples!" Words failed to express hisastonishment.

"Butter and sugar, Sire, go to the making of it, and the dust of awondrous nut. Will you taste it, Sire?" Rafe held out the pietemptingly.

"With thick cream to pour on the top--yellow, sweet, rich, thick cream!"said Meg, lingering over each word as if it melted on her lips.

"Give hither that pie!" almost shouted the hungry King. "I will lookinto this matter." And, drawing a dagger from his girdle, he seized andstabbed the pie to the heart. Sniffing at it eagerly, his eyes grewround, and he smacked his lips. "It is good, I wager my scepter!" hecried. "Hand me the cream, fair maid."

The little maid stepped up and daintily poured cream upon the shatteredpie, and without more ado the King began to eat with his dagger. (Thiswas not considered bad manners in those days.) After the first mouthfulhe stopped only to say: "Food of the Fairies! Pie of the Pixies! Cook,you are a magician!" He went on at a rate which threatened not to leavea mouthful.

And, with an apology, the King handed her what was left, watching herwistfully till she ate the last crumb.

"I must have the cook!" cried the King, turning to Rafe, with a broadgrin on his merry, fat face. "You must come with me and cook such piesfor every meal. Yes, I will have them for breakfast, too," he insisted,in response to a protest from the Queen.

"Sire," said he, bowing low, "will Your Majesty deign to point out to methe pie which has best pleased you, that I may have it set in the placeof honor, and give the prize to the maker?"

"That I cannot do," said the King, "for the pie no longer exists. I haveeaten it!" And he slapped his generous waistband. "But give whateverprize there may be to this worthy fellow, whom I now dub Baron Applepy.Baron, wear this ring in token of my pleasure in your pie." He drew afine ruby from his finger and gave it to Rafe.

"And this is for the little maid," said the Queen, taking a beautifulpearl necklace and tossing it over Meg's curls.

But Roger, the master cook, stood by and tore his hair when he saw whatwas happening.

Then up came the yoke of white oxen drawing the cart bearing the prize.And the Lord Mayor gave a goad into Rafe's hands, with words ofcongratulation.

"Your Majesty," he replied, "I see no way to make another pie like thiswhich has pleased you. For I have no more of the magic nuts wherewith toflavor a second."

The King frowned. "What! No more pie! Is this to be the first and thelast? Sirrah, I am not pleased!"

Then little Meg stepped forth. "The magic nut is the nutmeg," said she."My name is Meg, and Granny called the magic nuts after me. I know whereis hidden a store of them. These are my dower."

She emptied her pockets of the nuts which they held, and they were aprecious handful.

"Ha!" cried the King eagerly, "you must marry Baron Applepy, that he mayuse your dower in our behalf."

"Your Majesty," he said, "I cannot leave my poor neighbors. There willbe no one to cook for them at my prices."

Rafe bowed low. "You do me great honor," he said humbly. "But I cannotleave my poor people, my house and my cow and my apple tree; indeed, Icannot."

The King looked very angry and raised his staff with a gesture of wrath.But the Queen laid her hand upon his arm.

"Why may he not live where he will and yet cook the pies for us?" shesaid. "A messenger on a fleet horse can bring them to us every day. Weshall then have pies like that first delicious one, made of fresh applesfrom that very same red-apple tree of his. They would be best of all."

"Please, Your Majesty!" said Meg, in her most winsome tones. "I do solong to help Rafe pick the red apples for your pies and skim the yellowcream of the little red cow. And please, I do so long to help him cookfor his poor neighbors, who will miss him sadly if he goes. Now that wehave the prize, we can do much for them. Please, Your Majesty!"

So the King hemmed and hawed and yielded. "But see, Baron Applepy," hesaid, "that you make me three fine pies every day, for which my swiftestmessenger shall call. Now, farewell to you--and to all! We must be off.It is past dinner-time."

Then Rafe lifted the little maid into the white cart beside the hundredsacks of flour and the bag of silver, and amid shouts and cheers awaythey drove the white oxen toward the little house on the acre of landunder the red-apple tree, where the little red cow was waiting for them.

And there they lived happily ever after, making three pies a day for theKing at an enormous price, and feeding the beloved poor people, theirneighbors, for no price at all.

XVII: THE MYSTERY OF THE PIE

Red Rex greeted the close of this story with an enormous sigh. "Three ofthose delicious pies every day!" said he. "Would I had a messenger tobring such to me!"

"It might be arranged, Your Majesty," suggested Harold, "if our twocountries were at peace. I know that my mother would be glad to makesuch pies for you, even as Rafe and his Margot did for the King of old.The distance from Kisington to your Capitol is not so very great, Ithink; and doubtless Your Majesty has messengers fleeter than the one oflong ago."

"And your mother's pies are quite as good!" exclaimed Red Rex. "I havenever tasted better. So fat, so juicy, so generous! The tops fine,rounded hills; the crust so crisp, which your knife crunches daintily;the sight and smell of them is tempting!" The Red King's eyes rolled inhis head and he swayed ecstatically, like a poet composing a rhyme.

"And yet you have seen but a wee wedge of one pie!" exclaimed Harold."It must have pleased Your Majesty, indeed, to make your impression sotrue."

Red Rex eyed him strangely. "H'm, yes," he said. "I have a vividimagination in such matters. I can almost fancy I have eaten a wholepie--two--three--four whole pies! What a feast!"

Harold's eyes had been straying toward something white concealed in thegrass not far from the Red King's seat. He took a step forward now,bending low. Then he uttered an exclamation.

"Five pies, Your Majesty!" he cried, looking straight at the King."There were six, which the old woman stole. Here are five emptypie-plates!"

"What a strange coincidence!" cried the Red King, flushing and twiddlingat his sword-hilt uneasily. "These coincidences do happen quitestartlingly sometimes. Ha-hum!" He coughed and frowned forbiddingly.

"Surely, none of your men could have stolen my mother's pies (and,indeed, one of them was yours), Your Majesty. They would not have beenso mean!"

"They would not have been so reckless," corrected Red Rex. "No, no! ittook courage to make such an attempt; great courage, my boy!"

"Courage!" cried Harold. "I call it something else,--to steal the piesof a poor widow and deprive her son of his desserts. I call it mean anddisgraceful!"

"Tut, tut, boy! You do not know what you are saying!" blustered theWar-Lord, growing very red.

"Often it takes courage to do what others call an ill deed. And an illdeed is ill, only as you look at it; so I say! Everything depends uponthe point of view; remember that. Suppose the man who stole those pieswas starving and needed them for his comfort?"

"Suppose, indeed!" retorted Harold. "Suppose he came to our front doorand asked my mother for them, like a gentleman? She would not haverefused to sell, if he had money. She would have given, if he had none.She is like that, is my good mother!"

The Red King shook his head. "Suppose the man was an enemy, and tooproud to ask a favor? All's fair in war, my boy. Everybody knows that."

"Then war is all wrong, as we always said," Harold replied. "Right isright, and wrong is wrong. Stealing is stealing, and meanness ismeanness,--war or no war. If war makes men think differently from therule of every day, there is nothing to be said for it. Hello!" Haroldinterrupted himself, for something else had suddenly caught his eye.

He had been making his way toward the pile of pie-plates, and now hestooped and picked up something lying on the grass beside them. It was aqueer, old-fashioned bonnet. As he touched it out fell a rolled-upcalico apron. One of the strings was gone. Harold's eyes leaped from itto the Red King's bundled-up wrist. The other apron-string was doingduty as a bandage there.

"Ho! Ho!" cried Harold, staring at the Red King's purpling face. "Thisis the old woman's bonnet, and her apron. A disguise! I begin to see!You, Your Majesty,--you were the old woman yourself!"

"You are very sharp, youngster!" said Red Rex sulkily. "Begone to yourhome and leave me to finish my work."

"If I go," said Harold slowly, "I shall tell the whole town what I havediscovered. The news will travel through the Five Kingdoms--how a Kingdisguised as an old woman stole six pies--"

"Hold!" cried Red Rex sternly. "Enough of this impertinence! Remember towhom you speak, boy! I am a King."

"Yes, you are that King. But I thought always it was the 'Knave ofHearts who stole the tarts,' not the King. How did Your Majesty manageto do it?" asked Harold curiously.

"Aha!" The Red King tried to appear easy and unconscious. "It is my turnnow to tell a story, is it? Oho! You want to hear how the old woman gotinto your careless town, do you? And how she went along your unguardedstreets, do you? And how she crept into your unbolted cottage, do you?And how she found the goodly row of pies sitting on the pantry shelf?Ah! I shall never look upon their like again!"

Red Rex cast down his eyes. "That is the thing that chiefly troublesme," he said. "I am sorry I did not know the fact. Your mother was verythoughtful, Harold."

"Please tell me all about it, Your Majesty?" begged Harold, settlinghimself comfortably on the grass before the War-Lord. "I want to hearthe story. It is your turn now. You owe me that, at least."

"Well," said Red Rex choosing his words slowly. "You see, I had to havethose pies. Kings may take what they choose, because,--well, becausethey are Kings. That is reason enough,--say I! After that first bite yougave me, I felt that I needed more to make me happy. A King has a rightto be happy, whatever happens to another,--say I. I had broughtdisguises with me; for we have ever found them useful in making war.Last night I dressed up as an old woman, in petticoat and apron, bonnetand shawl. None of my men knew. As soon as it was dark I went to thegate of your town, pretending to be a countrywoman returning toKisington from a visit beyond the frontier, who had not heard of thesiege, and begged the guard to let me in quickly out of danger's way.Oh! You are such stupid, trusting folk in your Kingdom! The men believedme, and let me in because I seemed old and it was late, and they pitiedme. The fools! Pity is out of place in war-time. A city so ill-defendeddeserves to be taken and harassed,--say I!"

"We are trustful in our town because our own hearts are truthful andkind," said Harold.

"When the warders had let me in," went on Red Rex, "I passed along themain street toward the market-place, with my basket on my arm; and noone noticed me, for it was dark. I knew my way; you told me yesterdayhow the streets lay. Presently I came to a great, handsome building witha ruined porch,--upon my word, huge as my summer palace by the sea!--outof which people passed in a constant stream, with books under theirarms."

"So I judged," went on the Red King. "I concealed myself in an angle ofthe building until it should be darker, and watched. Little childrencame out of that library, who in my country would be playing at war withguns and toy cannon. Old men and women, whom I should expect to seecaring only to smoke and mumble and gossip about past wars, brought outbooks which they hugged lovingly. Young maids, such as in my land careonly to look at the soldiers and dance and prink; and young men whoshould be drilling or dueling or talking war,--all these came outlooking happy and content with the books which they had in hand. I neversaw such a sight!"

"Yes," said Harold; "It is always so in Kisington. We have no time tothink about war or soldiers or killing."

"Strange!" muttered Red Rex. "I was tempted to go myself into that greatbuilding and see if any book might be found with a message in it for me.But I did not take the risk."

"I guess what you mean," said the Red King hastily. "We have that Bookin my kingdom, too, of course. We honor it highly,--do not thinkotherwise! We have it in the churches, and bind it in gold, and keep itas something curious and old. But we do not often read it--why shouldwe? A peace book has no message for our brave and warlike people. Tothink so is absurd!"

"Well," continued Red Rex; "after a long, long time the streets werequite empty. Presently I heard the chimes of midnight. Then I crept outof my hiding-place and stole along the High Street, of which you hadtold me, till I came to the butcher's shop. Beside it, sure enough, wasa little cottage with a thatched roof which I knew must be yours. Thewindow was open, and I looked in; no one about. The door was unlocked,and in I went. What carelessness!"

"We never lock our doors in Kisington," said Harold. "We think it wouldbe rude not to trust our good neighbors, who trust us."

"Huh!" grunted the Red King. "In my Kingdom every door is double-barred,locked and bolted beside. He who trusts nobody is neverdisappointed,--so I say."

"I should hate to live in that kind of Kingdom," murmured Harold. "But Iknow what happened next," he went on, continuing the Red King's story."You fumbled along the wall with a noise like a mouse. You stepped on acreaky board."

"I crossed the kitchen on tiptoe," said Red Rex. "I challenge any man ofmy size to go more softly. Not a sound in the little house; no trace ofyou. My dark lantern showed me two doors. I knew one must lead to thepantry,--but which? Do you know what I did? Ah, I am clever! I put myear to each door in turn. At one I heard no sound. At the other,presently, I caught the noise of gentle snoring. Just then,--some onesneezed."

"By that sneeze I knew certainly that this was your bedroom, and thatthe other must be the pantry. I kept very quiet, and there was no moresound from you. I hoped you were asleep. I opened the pantry door verygently, and crept in. I flashed my lantern upon the shelves. Ah! Therethey were,--six beautiful, brown, luscious apple pies, as you had said.Um! Um! I could hardly wait to begin. I pulled out my dagger andattacked one of them. It melted in the mouth like magic! Just then Iheard a hullabaloo from your bedroom. What lungs you have, you rascal!"

"I yelled as loudly as I could," said Harold modestly. "But Robert canmake more noise."

"I hope I may never hear him, then!" cried Red Rex. "Well; I heard thekey turn in the lock, and knew you had trapped me, you dog! I heardsteps on the stair, and knew I had no time to waste. Hastily I put thefive remaining pies in my basket and made for the window. I knew itwould never do for me to be caught in Kisington! To be sure, there was atruce. But I did not know how your Magistrates might regard the right ofa King to take his own way with a truce. What triumph for your city tocapture me, the besieging War-Lord! It might not be. But your pantrywindow is of a smallness! I nearly perished in my attempt to squeezethrough. The glass cut my hand and my forehead. I thought once I wasstuck for good. Some one clutched at my shawl. I let it go. It ispriceless, woven tissue of the East; but I let it go."

"I shall never claim it," asserted Red Rex. "Well, soon I was safeoutside. I found myself in your back garden, on the city wall. You folkare so careless,--to build houses on a city wall! From there one candrop into safety without any trouble. I did so. It is your own fault iffugitives escape from your city,--say I. Whatever happens to you, it isyour own fault,--say I!"

"Then it will be your own fault if I tell this tale of you to our CityFathers to-morrow,--say I." Harold looked at Red Rex mischievously.

"Nay," said the Red King hastily. "You must not betray me. This talemust not become common history. No one will understand my point of view.I begin to think that no one will see my bravery in making this attempt.So few persons are open-minded and generous! You will not tell your CityFathers, Harold?Noblesse oblige, remember. You are my guest, and Ihave told you a tale in return for yours. I could detain you by force,breaking the truce yet once more. But I will not do so. I suppose I am afool!"

Harold had been thinking hard. "No; I will not tell the story,--but ontwo conditions."

"The first is this," said Harold. "For the sake of the pies you stole(one of which was your own), during the siege of Kisington you shallspare from force or damage that part of the city in which stands mymother's little house."

"Spare thenorth, then," said Harold, pointing. "You must not aim anyweapons against the north."

"The north is safe," repeated Red Rex. "I agree not to point weapon oraim force against the north section of your city."

"Then all Kisington is saved!" cried Harold. "Already, before now, YourMajesty has promised to spare theeast,--for the sake of Gerda'sgarden; thewest,--for the children's school, in the name of yourHope. Now you promise to spare thenorth. The south only remains,--andthat ishere, Your Majesty, outside the walls!"

Red Rex grinned sheepishly. "Harold," he said. "You have outwitted me,and outplayed me. Kisington is indeed safe from me. I have no choice nowbut to raise the siege and go my way home. And to tell you the truth, Ishall not be sorry to spare the town. Since visiting, even so briefly,within your walls, seeing the kind-faced people, the goodly buildings,and especially the noble library, I have conceived an affection for theplace. I am glad of an excuse not to destroy it. If it were possible,indeed, I would that I might see the interior of that house of books. Iwould fain know more of the Chronicles of Kisington."

"Why may it not be, Your Majesty?" said Harold. "We will say nothing ofthis night's adventure. Come to-morrow with a flag of truce and be ourguest, even as I have been yours. I will show you our library. Maybe youwill hear another tale, even in that noble home of books.--But first youmust hear to my second condition."

"True; I forgot that," said Red Rex gravely. "What is your seconddemand, Harold?"

"It is this," said Harold with a twinkle in his eye. "Your Majesty tellsa tale so well, I fain would hear another. To-morrow you shall tell me atale. I make that my second condition."

Red Rex hesitated, hummed and hawed. "Needs must," he said at last."Though I am no story-teller, I will think up some yarn from the tales Ihave heard in my travels, and that you shall hear, my boy. But surely, Ineed tell it to no others than yourself?"

The Red King looked so miserable at the idea of talking to an audiencethat Harold laughed and said,--"Nay, Your Majesty. Let me have the treatto myself. I will come here as before, after school, hear the story, andthen bring you back with me. The town will receive you as an honoredguest, and we will make high carnival."

The Red King had one last word. "Harold," he said shamefacedly, "I amsorry about the pies. I am ashamed. I would give them back, if I could.I will pay for them roundly."

Here follows the tale which the Red King told to Harold on the next day;a tale which he had heard in his wanderings in a New World far acrossthe ocean to the west; a tale of the Red People--Little Bear.

XVIII: LITTLE BEAR: AN OJIBWAY LEGEND

Once upon a time there was an old Indian couple who had three daughters,but no son. The two older girls were very beautiful; but the youngestwas plain and unlovely. Yet she was the wisest of the three. Her namewas Little Bear.

Now, there came a time when the father and mother grew too old to workas they had done all their lives. It became necessary that the two olderdaughters, who were strapping big girls, should go away to find work inorder to take care of the family.

"No," they answered; "you would be of no use to us. You are too little.You must stay at home."

The two sisters started upon their journey alone. But they had not gonefar when they heard the patter of feet behind them. They looked around,and there was Little Bear running after them as fast as she could go.The sisters were very angry. They took Little Bear and tied her to theposts of the wigwam, so that she should not follow them again. Then oncemore they started upon their journey.

They had traveled but a short distance when again they heard a noisebehind them. And there was Little Bear running toward them with thepoles of the wigwam upon her back.

The sisters were astonished and very angry indeed. They undid LittleBear from the posts and tied her instead to a huge pine tree which grewclose by. And they said: "Now will you stay where we leave you, badLittle Bear?"

Once more they went upon their way. But a third time they had not gonefar when they heard a great noise behind them.Bumpety-bump!Bumpety-bump! Along came Little Bear with the pine tree upon hershoulders!

The sisters were now very, very angry. They untied Little Bear crossly,with many jerks, and fastened her to a great rock on the side of thehill. And they said: "Now we shall see whether you are anchored or not,you obstinate Little Bear!" So they went upon their way.

Presently they came to a wide river, and they had no boat in which tocross. They sat down upon the shore and moped, seeing no way to continuetheir journey.

But suddenly they heard a terrible noise behind them, and there oncemore was Little Bear, running toward them with the great rock on herback.

This time the sisters were glad enough to see her. They unfastened therock and threw it into the middle of the river. Then they laid the pinetree upon the rock, and so they had a bridge upon which to cross.Merrily they passed over, all three. For this time Little Bear went withthe other two. And they did not send her away, because she was so strongand useful. Presently, on the other side of the river, they came to awigwam, where lived an old witch-woman with her two daughters.

"Our parents are very old," said the three girls, "and we are going toseek our fortune."

"Come in," said the old woman kindly. "Come in and have supper with us,and sleep to-night in the wigwam with my daughters."

The travelers were glad to go in, for it was growing late. They had anice supper in the tent, and when it was night the daughters of the oldwoman and Little Bear's two sisters went to sleep in a huge bed. Thesisters of Little Bear were on the outside, with the two others betweenthem.

Little Bear did not go to bed. She sat up with the old woman beside thecamp-fire, telling stories, until it was very late and the old womanfell sound asleep. She snored loudly; but to make sure, Little Bearreached out and pinched her gently.

When she found that it was not shamming, she crept softly to the bedwhere the four girls slept and changed their places. After this LittleBear's sisters were in the middle, and the old woman's daughters on theoutside. When Little Bear had done this, she crept back to the fire andlay down, pretending to be asleep.

In a little while the old woman awoke and pinched Little Bear to seewhether or not she was really asleep; and although it hurt dreadfully,Little Bear did not stir, or make a sound, but seemed to be dreamingfast. Then the wicked old woman sharpened her long, bright knife andstole to the bed where the girls were sleeping, and before they knewwhat was happening she had cut off the heads of the two girls on theouter sides of the bed. But it was her own two daughters whom the cruelcreature had killed, though she did not know it, in the dark! The wickedold woman lay down to sleep, chuckling to herself. But when all wasquiet, Little Bear awoke her two sisters and they all three crept awayfrom that cruel wigwam, hurrying on their journey.

Now, in the morning when the old woman awoke and found what a dreadfulthing she had done, she was annoyed. She screamed and cried and tore herhair, and then she jumped up into the sky and pulled down the sun fromits place, hiding it away in her wigwam, so that Little Bear and hersisters might be lost in the dark.

In the pitchy blackness, worse than night, because there were no stars,the three stumbled on and on, groping their way; and it was veryuncomfortable indeed. At any moment they might run into some terribledanger.

At last they saw the flicker of a little light, and made their waytoward it. They found that it was a man carrying a torch and lookingabout for something.

"I am looking for the sun," answered the man. "The sun is lost, and weare in great trouble because of it. Tell me, have you seen the sun?"

They said "No," and asked him to lead them to his village, which he did.And when they came near they saw the twinkle of many lights. All the menof the town were looking for the sun, and there was great distress amongthem because their Chief was ill, and he could not get well until thesun should be put back into his place in the sky, and the days be brightagain.

"Can you bring back the sun, Maiden?" asked the Chief feebly. "That isthe only thing that will help me."

"Yes, I can do so if you will give me two handsful of maple sugar andyour oldest son," said Little Bear.

The Chief agreed. Little Bear took the maple sugar and went back to thewigwam of the wicked old woman. She climbed up on the outside and threwthe sugar down through the chimney-hole into the kettle of rice whichthe old crone was cooking. Presently the hag tasted it and made a wryface.

"Bah!" she cried; "it is too sweet. I must go and get some more water toput in the kettle."

As soon as the old woman left the wigwam to get the water, Little Bearjumped down from the tent-roof, ran inside, and found the sun where thewitch had hidden it away. Up she tossed it into the sky; and lo! theworld was bright and beautiful once more.

Then she returned to the village, where the old Chief received hergratefully. As he had promised, he bestowed upon her his oldest son. ButLittle Bear did not want him. So she gave the young Chief to her eldestsister for a husband; and they were very happy.

Now, when the old woman saw the sun shining once more in his usualplace, she was very angry. She screamed and she cried and she tore herhair. Once more she jumped up into the sky, and this time she tore downthe moon, hiding it away in her wigwam, just as she had hidden the sun.

Then again the good old Chief fell sick, because now the nights werepitch dark; and he asked Little Bear if she could help him.

Little Bear said: "Yes, I will bring back the moon, if you will give metwo handsful of salt and your next oldest son."

The Chief agreed. Little Bear took the salt and went again to the oldwoman's wigwam, doing as she had done before. She tossed the salt intothe kettle of soup, and when the old woman tasted it she made a face andsaid: "Ugh! This soup is too salt. I must get some more water to put inthe kettle."

As soon as the old woman was out of the way, Little Bear ran in andseized the moon, which was hidden in a corner. She tossed it up into thenight sky, where it hung like a lovely lantern, and every one grew happyagain.

Immediately the old Chief became well, and was glad enough to keep hispromise and to give Little Bear his second son. But she did not want himfor herself. She married the young man to her younger sister; and theywere very happy.

This time the old woman was very angry indeed. She came by night to thevillage and stole the Chief's beautiful horse, all covered with littletinkly bells. At this misfortune the old Chief fell ill once more; forhe was very sensitive.

Once more Little Bear offered to help him if he would give her twohandsful of maple sugar and two handsful of salt, and his youngest,handsomest son. Of course, the old Chief agreed.

A third time Little Bear went to the old woman's wigwam and found hermaking soup. She did just as she had done twice before; only this timethe sugar and the salt together made a horrid mess! When the old womanwent out to get more water for a quite new soup, Little Bear slippedinto the tent and found the horse. As a precaution she first took offhis little bells, so that he should not make a noise to bring back thehag. She removed all the little bells but one, and that one she missed,it being hidden under a lock of his mane.

Gently she led the horse away. But alas! The one little bell which shehad overlooked began to tinkle as they fled.Tink! Tink! Tink! Throughthe wood the old woman heard it and pricked up her ears.Hop, hop,hop! Along she came, hobbling after them faster than any horse couldgallop, and she caught Little Bear before she could escape.

She put Little Bear into a great bag and tied the bag to the limb of atree. Then she went away to get a big stick with which to beat hervictim to death.

But Little Bear did not wait for this to happen. While the old woman waslooking for the stick, Little Bear bit a hole in the bag and crept out.She took the good horse, this time without any bells to give the alarm,and hid him in the bushes ready for flight. Then she put into the bagall the old woman's choicest things--her dishes and food, and thebreakable furnishings of her wigwam--until the bag was round and bulgyas if Little Bear herself were inside.

Chuckling to herself, Little Bear hid in the bushes where she could seewhat happened upon the old woman's return; and merry enough the sightwas! Little Bear nearly died of laughing, and had to stuff a corner ofher blanket into her mouth lest she should betray herself.

For the old woman came hurrying up with her huge club, and began to beatthe bag fiercely.Crack! Smash! went the pots and pans.Smash!Crack! went the dishes and the other things. But the wicked old womanwent on beating harder than ever, thinking that she was breaking thebones of poor Little Bear.

Presently Little Bear grew tired of the smashing and crashing, andthought it was time to be off. She mounted the Chief's good horse andgalloped swiftly away to the village, where her sisters were awaitingher anxiously, because she had been gone a long time.

When the Chief saw his good horse once more, he was greatly delightedand grew well immediately; he was so sensitive. As he had promised, hegave to Little Bear his youngest son, who was the handsomest of thethree, though not wise. Little Bear loved him dearly; so she married himherself and they went to live in a fine wigwam which the Chief gavethem, near the other two brothers and sisters.

But the Little Bear's husband did not love her. He was sulky and said:"I wish my wife were beautiful like the other maidens! Why must I marryan ugly Little Bear? I wish I might have had one of her pretty sistersinstead!" And he was cruel to Little Bear and made her weep.

But after a while she dried her tears, and was angry to think howfoolish she had been in choosing this youngest son for herself, justbecause he was so handsome. She thought about it for a long time.

One day she said to her husband: "You do not love me, because I am anugly Little Bear. Take me and throw me into the fire."

"I do not love you," said her husband, "but I cannot kill you, for thenthe Chief would punish me."

The young man was afraid, for he knew that Little Bear was very wise andpowerful. So he did as she bade him, and threw Little Bear into thefire. This made a great noise in the wigwam, and presently up camerunning Little Bear's two sisters.

"I have done only as she told me," said the young man sulkily. "LittleBear is not beautiful, but she is wise. So I did what she told me to do.I threw her into the fire."

Just then they heard a strange sound in the fire, and turning, theybeheld a most beautiful maiden with dark eyes and raven locks coming outof the flames. She smiled at the two sisters, and turning to the youngman said:--

"Husband, do you know me? I am Little Bear, who was wise but notbeautiful. Now I have become beautiful, but I am still wiser thanbefore."

"O my wife!" cried the husband eagerly. "I do not care whether you arewise or not--that matters little to me. But I love you with all myheart, you are so beautiful!"

Little Bear laughed and said: "You were unkind to the ugly Little Bear,though she loved you. You are like most men; you care more for beautythan for wisdom. But I have grown wiser than I was when I married youand I do not care what you think."

And Little Bear, now the most beautiful young woman in the village andthe pride of the tribe for wisdom, lived happy ever after.

XIX: THE RED KING'S VISIT

"That is a fine story!" cried Harold, clapping his hands after the RedKing had finished telling the tale of the Little Bear. "I wish I couldremember all the tales that I read, and tell them as well as you do,Your Majesty!"

Red Rex looked pleased. "It is a tale that, when I am not at war, I telloften to my little daughter," he said. "She likes all kinds of stories,but especially those of countries different from our own."

"So I think," mused Red Rex. "I would that you could read them to her,even as you have read them to me, Harold."

"Perhaps some day that may be," answered Harold. "But meantime YourMajesty may hear our tales and tell them to your little Princess whenyou return. She will like your way of telling them better than readingfrom a book, I know."

"Yes, I must read those tales again, at your library," said the RedKing. "I must study them well, so that I can tell them without losingthe point of each, as I am prone to do. My little Hope will be glad.Heretofore, I have never had time enough to read her as much as shecraved."

"The library will welcome you," said Harold. "I can answer for that. Itwould rather have you inside its doors reading than outside batteringdown the statues and the glass! Will Your Majesty come with me now andvisit the Town of Kisington under the flag of truce?"

Forth then went Harold and the Red King to the gates of Kisington. Sideby side they went, with the flag of truce between them, borne by a bigman-at-arms. After them followed a guard of the Red King's men; butthese remained behind when the great gate swung open to admit Harold andhis royal guest.

There were no soldiers to be seen anywhere in the streets of Kisington.It seemed a town wholly at peace. The Lord Mayor and the Librarian werewaiting to receive them, and crowds of people thronged the street tocatch a glimpse of the War-Lord, who for nearly a week had beenbesieging their city without firing a shot since that first day. Haroldrecognized among the crowd the faces of many of his school-mates, andpresently, when he found the opportunity he beckoned to his chums,Robert and Richard, who were in the front ranks.

"Keep close to me," Harold whispered to them. "By and by I dare say youwill have a chance to speak with Red Rex himself."

Robert and Richard needed no second hint to keep close at Harold'sheels. Proudly they stepped along, one on either side of their friend,behind the Red King and the Lord Mayor who followed the Librarian andthe bearer of the flag of truce. To the marketplace they went, the otherschool children trotting along in the rear of the little procession, andgazing with almost as much pride and awe at their lucky comrades as atthe dreaded enemy, Red Rex. Indeed, the whole Town of Kisington seemedmoving in the wake of these six most important personages.

What conversation took place between Red Rex and the Lord Mayor wasnever recorded. But it seemed to grow gradually pleasanter andpleasanter. By the time they had reached the steps of the library, theirfaces were wreathed in smiles and they beamed at each other like oldfriends.

At the door of the library the Librarian turned and, with a wave of hishand, said to Red Rex,--"Welcome, Your Majesty, to the treasure-house ofKisington."

"Glad am I to enter these doors," replied the Red King courteously. "Forhere, I believe, live the wonderful books which during these past dayshave been giving me much pleasure." He laid his hand on the shoulder ofHarold and smiled. One would hardly have recognized the face of the grimWar-Lord who had begun the siege so savagely. "I would fain see thosefriendly books in their own home," he went on.

"That you shall do, Your Majesty," said the Librarian; "for Kisington isso proud of her treasures that she is ever glad to welcome a stranger tothe enjoyment of them. Is it not fortunate, Your Majesty, that thelibrary is still standing to entertain you? Recently it was in greatdanger of being destroyed, as you may have heard." (The Librarian was anexceedingly polite gentlemen.)

At these words the Red King turned redder and bowed gravely. "The Booksthemselves rose up for the protection of books," he said. "They haveproved in this case to be the best weapons of defense. I am beginning tothink that they are better than any soldiers."

By this time they had entered the main hall, where a delegation ofLeading Citizens awaited them,--in holiday robes and with expectantfaces. They greeted Red Rex with profound bows, which he acknowledgedgraciously.

The Librarian then turned to the rows of patient, peaceful books whichlined the walls, ready to be made useful. "Yes, Your Majesty. These areour bulwarks and batteries and bayonets," he said simply.

The air of the room was still and quiet, full of peace and kindliness.Beautiful pictures looked down from the walls. Noble statues stood inthe niches. Soft lights came in at the windows and fell on the tablesand desks, and on rows upon rows of fair volumes, well-dusted andcheerful. The shattered windows had been screened; the broken marblesremoved; so that there was nothing to reproach Red Rex or to speak ofdiscord.

The War-Lord looked up and down and around and along, and spoke no word.All the books seemed listening, waiting for him to speak. They wereindeed like soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, standing at "attention."

"It is a noble army!" exclaimed Red Rex at last, and his voice was lowand gentle. "It is the best kind of army for the world, I see, as I havenever seen before. I would it were mine!"

"It is yours, Your Majesty," said the Librarian. "You have but to makefree use of it. These soldiers are free-lances, at the service not ofone master, but of any one who employs them intelligently. Read them,Your Majesty, and so make them yours, if you will." The Librarian spreadout his hands in a generous gesture.

"By my Hope, you are hospitable and magnanimous!" cried Red Rex. "I amtempted to take you at your word. Come, let there be no more war betweenus. Let us make no brief truce, but agree, instead, upon a true, lastingpeace. Already I have promised this Harold of yours to spare the city,east, west, and north,--which is the whole of it. But come; promise menow to spare me the scorn and hatred which you owe for myunfriendliness. Let us spare each other and be friends. For I would knowmore of your books and of your people."

"Good, Your Majesty!" cried the Lord Mayor, stepping forward. "By allmeans let there be peace. We have no wish for anything else. Our hastilygathered soldiers are eager to return again to private life. Send awayyour army, and let peace be proclaimed with no more formality than ourtrue words given each to other in this library, with the witness of thebooks."

"Done!" shouted Red Rex. "Here is my hand on it!" And he shook handsfirst with the Lord Mayor, then with the Librarian, then with the otherLeading Citizens. Harold and his chums were standing modestly a littleway apart. He called the boy to his side and laid an arm affectionatelyabout his shoulder. "Here is your true peacemaker," said Red Rex. "IfHarold had not been so good a reader, I should never have been here inpeace with you at this moment. To Harold and his books I owe the visionof what a library really is."

"Your Majesty," said Harold promptly, "will you also shake hands withRichard and Robert? It will make them very proud."

"That will I!" cried Red Rex. And he not only shook hands, but clappedthe boys on the shoulder, calling each by name; which was a thing forthem to remember all their lives.

"Now!" announced the Red King, taking a large seal ring from his fingerand handing it to his soldier who bore the flag of truce. "Take thisring, and go back to my army; bid the generals lead their men home, andbusy themselves in some useful work until my return. For as for me, Ishall remain for a space in this peaceful city, in this peacefulKingdom, to learn something further of its ways and wonders, whichinterest me hugely."

The soldier saluted and retired. And shortly after was heard beyond thewalls thetramp, tramp of a retreating army. The Red King was alone inKisington, among the books.

Little cared he for what went on outside. He was carried away by thefascination of a world new to him. The Librarian led him from room toroom, from stack to stack, from shelf to shelf of tempting books. TheRed King was fairly bewildered by the opportunities offered. He wantedto read all the volumes at once.

"I never dreamed there were so many books in the world!" he cried. "Howcan a man live long enough to read them all, if he does nothing else allhis days?"

"No more war for me!" declared Red Rex. They had reached a division ofthe books labeled in huge letters OUTLAND TALES. The Red King laid hishand upon a volume bound in green-and-silver, like ice. "This has atempting look," said Red Rex. "Are these also Chronicles of Kisington?"

"Yes, in a sense," answered the Librarian. "The deeds here recordedhappened not in our Kingdom; yet, being tales gathered by our forbearsin their travels around the world, to and from Kisington, they had apart in our history. They helped our fathers the better to understandand sympathize with the stranger, and so made for the peace which theyloved."

"This is a story for me," declared Red Rex, who had been peeping intothe ice-bound volume. "I would fain hear another tale interpreted by mylittle friend. Harold, will you read me this story, as you have read somany ere now? I long to hear your pleasant voice again."

"I will read whatever Your Majesty wishes," replied Harold. "Shall we gointo this alcove where we shall be quite undisturbed and undisturbing?"

"By all means," said Red Rex. And here, in a cozy comer under one of thegreat windows, with Richard and Robert on either side of him, Haroldread to the delighted King the Icelandic tale ofThe Bear's Daughter.

XX: THE BEAR'S DAUGHTER

Once upon a time, on an island far to the north of Kisington, whitheronly the bravest sailors dared to venture, lived a boy named Hans. Theycalled him Hans the Hunter, because he loved so much to hunt and fish.He was a tall, brave, and sturdy lad, and he loved his life and wasproud of his nickname. He had a hard spot in his heart, or he would nothave been a hunter.

One day Hans went out with two other lads to hunt. It was in the earlyspring, the season when the ice breaks up in the rivers and begins tomove seaward, like the hearts of men. The three wandered for many milesover the ice and snow until they came to the frozen bed of a river; butthey did not know it was a river, the water of it flowed so far belowthe cakes of ice which concealed it, while over all was a thick crust ofsnow.

At this spot Hans the Hunter, who was after big game, left the othersand started toward the south. Presently in the snow his sharp eyes spiedthe tracks of a huge bear. He was greatly delighted, and began to followthe slot so eagerly that he hardly marked where he was going. But all ona sudden he felt an unsteady motion under his feet. The ground seemedslipping beneath him. The snow parted and the ice cracked, and he spiedblue water in the gaps between. Then he realized that he was upon ariver, afloat upon a cake of ice!

Hans was greatly terrified, and made haste to leap upon a larger floe,for the former was too small to hold his weight, and threatened to turnupside down. Still he was in great danger; for before he knew it theriver had carried him out into a bay of floating ice, far from thesteady land. To and fro he leaped on his long legs, over the movingmass, hoping to find a way of escaping back to the shore. But presentlyhe saw to his horror that he was rapidly floating out to the ocean upona huge ice-floe, which was fast separating from the others. He wasadrift upon a barren island of ice!

Scarcely had he had time to realize this, when Hans had another shock.As he came around a huge pillar of ice, he almost stumbled upon a hugewhite bear lying asleep upon her side. It must have been the very samebear whose tracks had led Hans into danger, and which he had quiteforgotten. With a hunter's instinct Hans raised his gun to shoot her.But at the moment, before he pulled the trigger, the bear opened hereyes and spoke to him; and it did not seem so very strange to hear herspeak his own language.

"Why do you seek to kill me?" she said piteously. "I have done no harmto you, Hans the Hunter. Moreover, if you kill me you will yourself dieof cold within a few hours. If you lie down upon the ice to sleep youwill freeze to death. But if you rest against my thick fur I will keepyou warm. O man! Why must we be enemies? We are bound on a dangerous seavoyage together. Be my friend! Catch fish for me, so that we shall notstarve. So, helping one another, we shall live comfortably on thisfloating home until we are able to go ashore."

"Gladly will I do what you say," agreed Hans the Hunter, for he saw thather words were wise.

After that Hans and the bear became partners. By day, with the tacklewhich he always carried in his wallet, Hans fished for their dinner;and, indeed, the bear's huge appetite kept him busy! By night hesnuggled against the warm fur of his neighbor and slept soundly, notfeeling the cold. So they kept their bargain.

Many days went by, and the bear came to love Hans dearly. Indeed, heliked her, too. But Hans loved himself better, for he was a selfish lad.

One morning Hans awoke with a start, conscious of an unusual movementnear him. The bear was stirring uneasily in her sleep. But somethingelse close beside him writhed and wriggled. He rubbed his eyes andlooked again. Nestled against the bear's white fur was a tiny newbornchild, a beautiful baby girl. Hans sat up and stared at the prodigy.What did it mean? Where did the baby come from? At last an idea came tohim.

"Oho!" he said to himself. "Now I know what it all means! This is theEnchanted Bear of whom I have heard so much,--the great White Bear ofthe North. That is why she could talk to me, and why I could understand.That is why her newborn cub is a human child,until she looks at it.Mistress Bear has not yet seen her little one. Ho! What a prize for ahunter to take home! This enchanted bear-baby will remain human, if Ican steal her away where her mother will never set eyes on her. Thatwill be something to show the other fellows, I should say!"

On the preceding night Hans had noted that the ice-floe was approachingnearer to the land. This morning they were very close to shore. Manyice-cakes floated about, and by jumping from one to another long-leggedHans knew that he could make the land. Very gently he took the littlewhite baby, so soft and warm, in his great hands and wrapped it underhis coat, so that the old bear should not see it. Then silently andstealthily he prepared to depart. But when he moved away from her sidethe old bear wakened suddenly and called after him,--

"Where are you going, friend Hans? What are you doing with my little cubthat I have never seen?" Hans did not stop to explain, but clasping thebaby tightly, darted off over the ice-field toward the land. Surprisedand fearful, the old bear rose and looked after him with wide eyes ofreproach. Then when she realized what he meant to do, she shook herselfwith a mighty roar, and her eyes grew bright and fierce. She started inpursuit.

It was a terrible chase! Hans was swift-footed; but after all the icewas not his natural ground. The bear who had seemed so clumsy traveledover the ice with miraculous speed, as polar bears do. Hans heard herpanting behind him, drawing nearer and nearer, and his heart sank low.He knew how sharp her claws were, and how strong her teeth. She wasgaining upon him; but he would not give up the baby. The hard spot inhis heart grew harder. Burdened as he was, he turned about and raisinghis gun fired it at the bear. His aim was good,--for was he not Hans theHunter? With a moan the great bear fell, and he saw a stream of blooddye the ice-floe which he had so long shared with her as a home.

Hans did not pause to mourn over the faithful friend who had kept himalive and warm for so many nights; but leaving her on the ice to die,sped shoreward with his burden, jumping lightly from cake to cake of iceuntil he reached the land.

After wandering about for some time Hans found a deserted fisherman'shut, where he built a fire and cherished the baby which he had stolen.The little thing seemed to thrive under his clumsy care. He tarried inthe hut for some days, managing to get food for the baby and himself.Then he took the child and made his way inland until he came to a littlevillage. He found that it was miles and miles from his former home; butthe people were kind and urged him to stay. So Hans decided to settledown and live here, practicing his trade as a hunter, and earning enoughto keep himself and the child in comfort. And every day the stolen babygrew dearer and dearer to Hans the Hunter.

Years went by. Hans became a big man, the mightiest, most famous hunterin all the countryside. Presently the little girl was grown up, too. Andshe had become the most beautiful tiny maiden in the land. Her name wasUrsula, which means "Little Bear-Girl," though no one knew why Hans hadgiven her this name. Folk supposed that she was called after the holySaint Ursula. Hans, as you may guess, never told the lass about herbear-mother whom he had so cruelly wronged.

Hans loved Ursula so dearly that he hoped some day she would become hislittle wife. For a long time Ursula laughed and put him off; but at lastshe consented.

One fine day they drove to Church and were married. After the weddingall the village folk crowded around the sleigh in which Hans was tocarry his young bride home, and wished the couple joy and good luck. Foreverybody liked big Hans, who was cruel only to animals; and they adoredhis little Ursula, who was cruel to nobody. She looked very pretty asshe sat beside Hans, all pink and white and smiling, wrapped from headto foot in snowy furs which Hans had given her for a wedding present.Merrily they waved good-bye to the crowd as they drove away. And everyone said, "Was there ever seen a handsomer, finer couple?"

It was a gay, long ride home through the forest, and the pair were veryhappy. The sun shone dazzlingly on the jeweled snow, and the evergreenssparkled with icicles. The little brook, hidden under the ice, peeped atthem through sundry chinks here and there, chuckling merrily as he ran.The sleigh-bells jingled heartily and the horse pranced as if he, too,shared the joy of that happy wedding day.

Suddenly, as they came out into an open space, the horse stopped shortwith a frightened snort, and stood gazing with wild eyes, trembling inevery limb. Something huge and terrible blocked the road. In the middleof the way stood a great white bear, upright upon her hind legs.

Hans recognized her at once; it was his old friend whom he had betrayed!After all, she was not dead, as he had hoped, but after twenty years hadcome back to confront him. She was staring fixedly at Hans,--she had notyet seen little Ursula muffled in her furs. With a cry Hans threwhimself between his young bride and this terrible sight.

"Come to me, my Daughter, my Cub!" cried the mother-bear in a deepvoice. "Come to me!"

Ursula gave a strange, wild cry and struggled in the arms of Hans. "Whatis it?" she said. "Oh, what is it? I must see!"

At the same moment her voice died away into a low whine, then rose intoa howl such as an animal gives in pain. Struggling from her husband'sarms she leaped from the sleigh.

Instantly Hans followed, holding out his arms piteously and calling,"Ursula! Ursula!"

But the white, furry figure did not hear. It was hurrying forward towardthe great bear.

"Come to me, my Child!" said the bear again. "Leave the wicked man whobetrayed his friend and sought to kill her. Come, let us punish him!"

Her words ended in a fierce growl, which was echoed by the other whitefigure, as she turned about and looked at Hans. And oh, what was this!With horror he saw that his little bride had, indeed, turned into afurry white bear. Her eyes burned red and angry as she looked at him,and she showed her teeth as if her mother's words had turned all herlove of Hans into hatred, for the old bear's sake.

She seemed about to spring upon Hans and tear him to pieces. Butsuddenly her look changed. She folded her paws upon her furry breast,and Hans saw tears, human tears, come into the little bear's eyes. Itwas the last token of her human life, the last gleam of her fondness forhim. She could not punish him as her mother bade. She would not let evilhappen to him, even though he had done such a cruel wrong, because shehad once been his little Ursula.

Dropping upon all fours she ran toward her mother, and they laid nosestogether for their first caress. She seemed to say something to the oldbear in a silent language, which was answered by a deep, sullen growl.After this, without a further glance at Hans, the two bears turned aboutand trotted away together into the forest. Hans the Hunter never sawthem again.

But after that the gun of Hans hung rusty on the wall of his lonely hut.The hard spot in his heart had melted.

XXI: RED REX AND KING VICTOR

Hardly had Harold finished speaking these last words in the tragic storyof the Bear's Daughter, when there arose from the market-place such ahubbub and commotion that the Red King's comments on the tale were quitelost. Voices were shouting and cheering; trumpets were blowing and drumsbeating; over the clang of weapons and neighing of horses one caught thetramp, tramp of marching feet.

Red Rex sprang to his feet, drawing his sword and growing very red inthe face. Once again he was the fierce and terrible War-Lord. But Harolddid not notice. He was too much excited at the tumult going on outside.He ran hastily to the window and looked out. The square was full ofsoldiers and banners and gayly decked horses. Men-at-arms crowded theside streets, pouring continuously into the square. The ruined porch ofthe library was crowded. A guard stood at the portal.

In the center of the square, bestriding a white horse, sat a statelyfigure, dressed all in white armor. His snowy head was uncovered and hespoke to the cheering people smilingly.

And Robert and Richard, scrambling up beside him, echoed thecheer,--"Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live King Victor!"

"Our good King has come to Kisington at last!" cried Harold, turningback into the library.

He had quite forgotten his warlike guest and why King Victor had come toKisington. Indeed, for the moment every one seemed to have forgotten RedRex. The Librarian, the Lord Mayor, and the other Leading Citizens haddisappeared, and the library seemed quite empty. But in one corner ofthe alcove where the last story had been read, Red Rex was standing atbay. He had drawn up before him a heavy table, behind which he stood,sword in hand, one foot advanced, his red beard bristling.

"Yes, I am trapped!" snarled Red Rex. "You have caught me, boy. But youshall pay for this!"

Harold and the Red King stood staring at one another. Thetramp, trampof feet sounded on the staircase, coming nearer. Along the hall came thetread. The door of the hall opened, and a martial group crossed thethreshold. Foremost came their King, King Victor himself, the splendid,white-haired peace hero. The three boys dropped each on one knee beforehim.

For a moment the King stood gazing about him mildly, without speaking.He was tall and stately, but his eyes were kind, even merry, and withall his dignity there was nothing to strike fear even into the heart ofa child. Presently his eyes caught the figure of the trapped War-Lord,barricaded and at bay in the corner.

He stepped forward with a friendly air and held out his hand. "Welcome,Cousin!" he said in a hearty voice.

Red Rex glared at him, fairly bristling with rage. "Do not mock me!" heblustered. "I know well enough that I have been trapped and that theword of the Lord Mayor of this town, given to me, will not count now.But you shall not take me alive. I will slay the first who lays hand onme!" He waved his sword furiously. Harold had never seen him look soterrible.

But the enraged Red King would not listen, and went on with his wildaccusations.

"I have been trapped by children!" he raged. "Delayed by tales! Deceivedby promises! I trusted all these and disbanded my army, fool that I was!But take me if you can!" Again he flourished his sword and ground histeeth.

King Victor stood looking at the War-Lord without speaking. At last heraised his hand with a grand gesture and said with emphasis andsincerity, "You are making a great mistake, Cousin! You are not trapped.The promise of the Lord Mayor is sacred. In my land a word is as good asa treaty. You are quite free to go, if you list. But, indeed, we hopeyou will deign to stay, as our honored guest. It is the first time youhave graced our Kingdom with your presence, Cousin. We long to befriends with you; to see lasting peace between our neighboring lands."

"You come with an army," retorted Red Rex sullenly. "You came inresponse to summons. You came to combat me."

"That is true," assented King Victor. "When we heard that Kisington wasbesieged, we gathered together our peaceful army and hastened hither inthe interests of peace. But we arrive to find, instead of a bloodysiege, a peaceful King enjoying this library. We hasten to add our ownwelcome to that of Kisington's Leading Citizens. We invite you toremain, Cousin, and enjoy not only these but other treasures of ourKingdom which it may be to your advantage to know better."

"If my army had not disbanded," blustered the War-Lord, "you would notbe speaking to me so debonairly."

"Yet, our volunteer police force embraces every citizen of our Kingdom.We should have surrounded you without trouble or bloodshed, Cousin. Wecould have persuaded your army by sheer force of numbers and opinion,without doubt. But let us not think of that. Let us rather consider thepleasanter things which surround us. Shall we not be friends, Cousin? Weknow your Kingdom well. We have read and studied about it thoroughly inour books. We have, indeed, traveled all over it in peaceful disguise.Come, you ought to become as well acquainted with ours; then I am surewe should never misunderstand one another again. Say, Cousin Rex, shallit be?"

He advanced a step nearer the other, holding out his hand and smilinggenially. His sincerity was plain.

The War-Lord dropped his sword. "I believe you!" he cried, steppingforward and grasping the proffered hand. "Cousin, Neighbor, let there bepeace between our whole kingdoms; even as we promised between myself andKisington."

The two monarchs embraced in kingly fashion, and sat down in a retiredalcove for a pleasant chat.

It was not long before Harold was summoned to the pair. King Victorreceived him kindly, and Red Rex grinned. "We have heard the tale ofyour service to the State and to our Royal Friend, Harold," said KingVictor graciously. "We would fain give you a suitable reward, my braveBookworm. What shall it be? Tell me your wish."

Harold flushed and stammered. "I do not wish a reward for the little Idid, Sire," he said. "I had no thought of that. Indeed, it was apleasure to read for His Majesty."

"Yea, so we believe!" smiled the King. "Yet some reward we owe for yourtrue office. What shall it be?"

Harold hesitated, thinking. "Truly, for myself I ask nothing," he said."Yet, perhaps, Sire, you would help my mother, my dear mother, so thatshe need not work so hard while I am learning to be a scholar."

"It shall be so!" cried the King. "She shall have a little maid to helpher; money to pay the rent, buy food and clothes and modest pleasures.These shall she have. But for yourself, Harold? We must show you somespecial favor, for our own comfort."

"Well," said Harold, "one thing I scarcely dare to ask. But I shouldlike more time to read in the library while His Majesty is here. Maybe Icould serve him better if I had not to go to school these days. May theschool children have a vacation of a week, Sire?"

"A fortnight!" cried King Victor, beaming. "It is the very pith of ourtalk, my boy. For a week the King our Cousin is fain to tarry inKisington, and he asks no better than yourself to be his guide,philosopher, and friend. Then for a week he will be my guest, travelingwith me over the Kingdom, visiting certain places whereabout you havemade him curious by your stories. He asks that you may go as his page.Both these things are possible if we grant the school a fortnight'srecess. It shall be done. But still, this is little reward for your wisedoings, my boy. Ask something more."

"Then, Sire, I beg this," said Harold, with shining eyes. "Let Robertand Richard go with me as assistant pages. That will be a merry vacationfor us all; no better boon could I ask!"

The King laughed merrily. "A boy's wish!" he said, "but it shall begranted. Now, come hither, Harold." With these words King Victor threwover the boy's shoulders a heavy gold chain with a cross hanging fromit. "'Blessed are the peacemakers,'" quoted King Victor. "Wear this,Harold, a token from your grateful country. And with it goes the gift ofa hundred books, which you shall choose for yourself, to be thebeginning of a library of your own,--Book Wizard, as they call you!"

The bells of Kisington began to peal gayly and continuously, a triplerejoicing. The beloved King being in town was sufficient reason forfestival. Therefore,--Ding dong! Peace was declared forever betweenthe two neighboring nations. Therefore,Ding dong! Ding dong! Aholiday for the school children of Kisington, Harold's friends.Therefore,--Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!

Harold went home to his mother with the glad news. And proud enough shewas of her lad when she heard why all the bells were ringing, and sawhis golden cross.

XXII: THE BOOKS CONQUER

Thus began the wonderful fortnight of vacation that Harold and Robertand Richard never forgot in all their lives.

For a happy week the War-Lord tarried in Kisington. He spent much of histime studying at the library, reading many books, but especially suchtales as Harold thought the little Princess Hope would enjoy. Many ofthese he heard Harold read aloud; sometimes in the cozy alcoves of thelibrary, where they could disturb no one; sometimes in the sumptuousapartments of the palace which King Victor had put at the disposal ofRed Rex; oftenest and best of all in the little thatched cottage ofHarold's mother, where the Red King came to feel perfectly at home. Forone of the first things Harold did in his vacation time was to invitethe War-Lord to dinner.

"We shall have for dessert one of my mother's famous apple pies,"promised Harold with a twinkle. The Red King blushed; but he acceptedthe invitation in a truly kingly spirit.

There was now plenty to eat and drink in Harold's home, and a nicelittle maid to help his mother and make the days pleasanter. It was avery merry party that gathered around the table in the kitchen thatnight. Richard and Robert were there; for the Red King had taken a fancyto them, and they all talked together like old friends. The Red King hadmany thrilling adventures to tell them of his roving life. And Red Rexwas learning many new and novel things of them all the while. For thiswas the first time he had ever eaten in a thatched cottage, or in thecompany of simple strangers.

When the great pie was brought in, all steaming and spicy, Harold andthe War-Lord exchanged a peculiar glance.

"Your Majesty has tasted my pie before," said Harold's motherinnocently. "I sent a piece with Harold's luncheon one day, and he tellsme you approved of it. That is why we have it to-day for dessert."

"Ah! I approve of it, indeed! I shall never forget your pie, dear littleMother!" cried the Red King with a laugh. "It is worth adventuring muchto obtain even a bite of pies like yours."

"That I cannot believe," said Red Rex, frowning at him. "I never ate pieso delicious before this day!"

"Do you think one piece of pie hot is worth five pies cold, YourMajesty?" asked Harold.

"Yes, indeed!" cried the Red King, turning still redder. "Especially ifeaten in such pleasant company."

"So thought not the wicked old woman who stole my pies," said Harold'smother. "I wonder if she will ever dare to claim that beautiful shawlwhich she left behind her?"

"I dare say not," frowned the Red King. "And inasmuch as the Lord Mayordeclares that she must have been a native of my Kingdom, intrudingwithin your walls, I hereby make over to you that shawl which she hasforfeited by her wicked deed. Wear it henceforth without a qualm,Mother."

She wore it to church the very next Sunday, and all the ladies enviedher this last piece of good luck which seemed to follow the coming ofthe Red King.

Red Rex was eager to visit every corner of Kisington about which he hadheard in the Chronicles. Since this was vacation time, Harold and Robertand Richard were overjoyed to be his guides. They visited the OldCuriosity Shop where the Lion Passant had lived dumbly for years beforethe coming of the Patent Medicine Man. The store was still kept by awheezy old fellow with a cough; though he was not the same who hadspilled the Elixir over the Lion Passant. Of him the War-Lord bought somany curiosities that he and his little old wife became quite rich, andnever had to worry about the future any more.

They visited the ruined old castle, a little way out of Kisington on theroad to Hushby, where Arthur had found the magic glass, made by hisuncle the Amateur Magician. It was now all in ruins, inhabited only bybats and owls and rats. But the Red King prowled about the crumblingchambers with the greatest delight, and took home a paper of pebbles asa souvenir for the little Princess Hope, who made "collections."

They visited the famous bakehouse of the Rafe-Margot Company, where akind of pastry called "Kingspies" was still made after the old recipe,which had first been used in the oven of the premises. For this was thesite of the little red house that had stood on the acre of land underthe red-apple tree. All these had disappeared; and the Kingspies, whichthe Red King tasted eagerly, were not as good as the home-made varietyof which Harold's mother had inherited the secret. For there issomething magic about the pies that a mother makes in her own kitchenwhich no factory can imitate.

At this factory Red Rex left a large sum of money to pay for Kingspieswhich should be given to any hungry man who asked; particularly if heasked at midnight,--which seemed, indeed, a strange condition! ButHarold understood why the Red King did this thing. And Harold never toldany one,--not even Robert and Richard.

One day they all went to visit what had been Gerda's Wonder-Garden, bythe sea. It was now called the Aquarium, and was a public park, free toall the people of Kisington. It was quite as wonderful as ever, for itwas full of all the strange and beautiful creatures of the sea, and RedRex marveled greatly to see them there.

In charge of the Aquarium was the Lady Anyse, who was a descendant ofCedric and Gerda. She came to greet them when she heard of theirarrival, and as soon as their eyes met she and the Red King gazed ateach other long and earnestly. She was tall and stately, and verybeautiful. She had red hair like the King's, and bright blue eyes; andshe was afraid of nothing. She and Red Rex stared at each other long andearnestly, without speaking.

"In sooth, I believe you are, indeed, of my kin! Something tells me so.I am sure that Gerda, your great-great-grandmother came from my Kingdom,and was sister of my great-great-grandfather."

"Cousin," declared Red Rex, "you have been too long away from the landof your fathers. Will you go back with me, to my little daughter? Shehas no mother, and she needs one badly; some one from a peacefulKingdom. I think she needs you. I am going, moreover, to make for her asplendid Aquarium, like this of Kisington. This also will need yourcare."

"Then you will come back with me?" begged Red Rex, more eagerly than hehad ever begged for anything in his life. "It will make a new bondbetween our Kingdoms, so that we shall never be at war again."

So that matter was happily settled, to the Red King's great content. Anda happy thing, indeed, it proved for the little Princess Hope and forthe two Kingdoms.

When the second week began, Red Rex left Kisington to visit King Victorat the Capital City. Harold and Robert and Richard accompanied him aspages, each wearing a beautiful suit of velvet and gold, and each ridingon a fine little white pony, the gift of Red Rex.

What a glorious trip that was! For first they made a detour to the Townof Hushby. There still stood the inn where Arthur had met pretty Margotwho afterwards became his Countess, and where he had his first adventurewith the wicked Oscar. From there the party went up into the mountainswhere the Dragon used to live. Harold and the other two boys scrambledabout among the rocks, and after a while they found the very place whichhad been the Dragon's den. It was a cave fifty feet long and twelve feethigh, very black and gloomy. And in it were a great many skulls andbones of persons whom the Dragon had killed and eaten in those dreadfulyears, long, long ago. But now it was empty and forgotten.

From Hushby they rode to the Capital City, which was all decked withbanners and flowers to receive Red Rex, the ex-War-Lord. Then began aseason of royal merrymaking to celebrate the peace between the twoKingdoms. There were banquets and dancing and games and pageants,processions and concerts and fireworks, all of which the Red King andhis three pages enjoyed hugely. King Victor was very kind to them, andmade them happy in every way he could devise.

He invited them to the Royal Museum, where they were privileged to viewsome of the most precious treasures of the Kingdom. They saw in a glasscase on a velvet mat the tiny stuffed Dragon himself; he who had oncebeen the Terror of Hushby. They saw, too, the now un-magical glass withwhich Arthur had vanquished his enemy. It looked like any other merereading-glass with an ivory handle, and it was hard to believe whatwonders it had done. In this same collection was the first pie-platebrought by Rafe's messenger to the King, after that clever cook becamepie-maker-in-ordinary to the throne.

Here, too, was the glove of that royal giantess, the Princess Agnes, whohad refused to marry Arthur because he was too little. It was as broadas a palm-leaf fan, and much thicker. Close by the monster glove lay atiny white moccasin, which had once been worn by Ursula, the bear'sdaughter, and which had been brought back from the far land of that sadstory by one of the sea-rovers of Kisington, who had first told thetale.

Here also was one of the partly-grated nuts with which Meg had flavoredthe first King's Pie; and a precious pearl from Gerda's Wonder-Garden,the gift of the grateful Mermaid. There, worn to rags, by the passage ofmany years, was the original lion-doll made by Claribel, from the modelof the Lion Passant. And this the Red King liked best of all. But therewere many interesting things in the Museum of King Victor which recalledto Red Rex the stories that Harold had read to him.

One day King Victor and a merry party rode to the town of Derrydown inthe north. Here was the great lion-doll factory, started by Claribel andthe Lion Passant, which had made their fortune and that of Derrydown.The party stopped at the old Red Lion Inn where the sign still swungover the door as in the days when the Lion Passant had first been struckby its resemblance to his family crest. And because it was his familycrest also, Red Rex made the landlord a handsome present. In these daysthe Red King was generosity itself.

Hard by the Inn was the very same tiny hut in which Claribel had lived;and over the fireplace still showed dimly the carved coat of arms andthe motto,Noblesse oblige.

When Red Rex saw this, he stood and stared at it a long time, sayingnothing. "I used to think that meant 'A King can do no wrong,'" said heat last in a low voice to King Victor. "Now I believe it means, 'A Kingmust do no wrong.'"

"So I too believe," agreed King Victor. "But I would make the motto saystill more. Every one can be noble, and a noble must do no wrong."

But there were other tales of this neighborhood which Red Rexremembered. "May we not go hunting in the Ancient Wood, of which I haveheard?" asked Red Rex while they tarried in Derrydown. "I understandthat it is not far, and that there is great game to be had in thosestill coverts."

"Nay; in these days we do not hunt in my Kingdom," replied King Victor."Since hearing the tale of the Bear's Daughter it has been no pleasurefor any of us to kill or hurt any dumb creature."

"Ah!" cried Red Rex. "I had forgot that story! Hans wounded a poorfriendly bear who had done him no harm. That was cowardly, indeed! True,Cousin. Neither do I wish to hunt any more. It was that tale which youpunctuated by your noisy arrival in Kisington, do you remember? I pickedout that story for myself; and it has done a service to the wildcreatures of my Kingdom, who will henceforth be safe from me and mine.But, indeed, though we do not hunt, I would fain see this Ancient Wood,where the Old Gnome lived in his hollow tree."

"We will go this very day," answered King Victor. And go they did. Sureenough, in a clearing they found the house which David had built for hislittle wife, snug and clean and empty. Close by in the thick woods thethree boys discovered a giant tree-stump, papered with moss and hungwith cobweb hammocks, which they felt sure had been the house of theHermit Gnome in the days before he became a Fairy.

"I must bring my little daughter Hope to see this place," declared theRed King. "She would love it best of all. What good times she would havewith me here in the forest! I would tell her the story of David, andlearn myself to be a woodsman."

"It is more amusing than war," declared King Victor. "With books in thecity and woodcraft in the wild, who would be a soldier? Look, now! Iwill give to your little Princess Hope as a gift this tiny cottage,where David and his wife and little daughter lived so happily. When shecomes to visit our Kingdom,--often, as I hope,--you can play at being awoodsman; which is a good game. But you must promise to let me be yourguest for at least one night of each visit. For I, too, love these woodsand this little house which has been my secret retreat for many years.Will you accept my gift for your little daughter, Cousin?"

Still further they penetrated across the meadow to the woods once calledthe Great Fear. Red Rex was anxious to know more of that once dangerousneighborhood. But since peace had become the fashion in the Kingdom, thewicked Gnomes, who had tried as long as possible to prick war-poisoninto the hearts of men, found their occupation gone. When the goodKing's peace plans reached their ears the Gnomes groaned in despair.They held a council, and decided unanimously to curl up forthwith in thelong sleep and let the world alone.

There was now no sign of them, save where here and there a gnarled armor burly bended knee seemed to push up from the ground. But these wereso covered with mould and moss that it was impossible to tell them fromthe fallen tree-trunks or mounds of earth. Harold and Robert and Richarddid not disturb these mossy mysteries. In times of peace it is better tolet sleeping Gnomes lie. Only the makers of ammunition and warships andnewspaper scareheads (of whom there were none in King Victor's land)would be eager to see those busy-bodies awake and at their maliciouswork again, causing peaceful places to become a Great Fear.

When the happy fortnight ended, the Red King went back to his Kingdomand his little Princess Hope, taking with him the beautiful Lady Anyse.

Then began a time of peace in that hitherto restless land; a time ofpeace and prosperity and happiness, of neighborliness and the exchangeof friendly doings. King Victor went to visit the erstwhile War-Lord,and in that time taught the Red King many useful arts of peace. And who,think you, went with King Victor on that visit? Who but the goodLibrarian and Harold, his adopted son. The Librarian had his pocketsfull of plans for a grand new library to be established in the Capitalof Red Rex. And Harold had his pockets full of stories for the littlePrincess, and his bag full of sweetmeats for that same wee lady, made byhis kind mother who was now pie-maker-general to the Red King, accordingas they had planned.

Harold and the Princess Hope, who was the dearest of little girls inpink-and-gold, became the best of friends. And when the following summershe came with Red Rex and the Queen Anyse to live in the hut in theAncient Wood and play at being wood-folk, Harold and Richard and Robertcame also. The three boys encamped (like Boy Scouts) in the woods closeby the hollow tree which had once been the cell of the Hermit Gnome. Andthey used his house for their cooling cellar!

So ended the Siege of Kisington, where the books conquered. And the daysof peace continued until the time when Harold, having become a famousscholar, was chosen Librarian and Governor of Kisington.

In those days there were no more forts or walls or jealous boundariesbetween the Kingdoms; for the lands were one in peace and good-will.There were no armies or weapons or disputes; for the nations understoodand loved and trusted one another, and their rulers were wise men andwomen.

In those days the Princess Hope had become the most beautifulbook-loving maiden in the world, and the wise Governor of her father'sfairest city, adjoining Kisington.

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