THE WILD WOODSMAN.

THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.THE WILD WOODSMAN.OONCEthere lived a peasant whose only daughter, Martha, had eyes as blue as corn-flowers and long hair like the silk around an ear of corn. All the lads of the village were after her, but she cared only for John, a young huntsman, who was called by her father an idle vagabond, and sent away from his cottage in disdain. Now, the village where they lived was at the foot of a high mountain covered with a dense forest, into certain portions of which few were found to venture, so wild and lonely they were. One day Martha went, unknown to her father and mother, to ramble in the forest. She said to some of her friends that she meant to gather flowers and pick berries, to sell to a rich lady who lived near them; but the truthwas, that a week had passed without John having set foot in the village, and she was anxious and uneasy, and wished to visit some of her lover's favorite haunts, to see if he might be there. It was no uncommon thing for John to be absent for several days, while trapping and hunting. He could sleep as well on a bank of moss as on his pallet at home, and he loved to go to rest under the broad canopy of the sky, studded with bright stars, and to be lulled by the music of falling waters.Martha, dressed in her brown cotton frock, with the scarlet handkerchief knotted over her fair hair, was seen to go up a rocky pathway on the mountain-side, where the firs and larches made a bower overhead; but that night she did not come home, and next day, when John came into the village with a splendid string of birds he had shot miles away from there, in an opposite direction to the one Martha had taken, it was to hear the sad news of the poor girl's disappearance.John's face grew pale and his stout heart grew faint; he thought of what all the others were thinking of—the Wild Woodsman, against whose magic his gun and staff might avail nothing!The mountain above was believed to be the haunt of a mysterious being, half man, half brute, fierce and cruel, from whose den no living creature might ever be rescued. The Wild Woodsman, for so the natives called him, took many a shape to trap unwary travellers, and a fair young girl like Martha would be a rich prize for him. John had long vowed to capture the Wild Woodsman; and now he was filled with a mad thirst to seek him at once. Without stopping to hear more, the young man rushed off up the steep mountain path, bounding like a chamois from rock to rock, as the villagers, awe-struck and tearful, gazed after him and crossed themselves in superstitious fear.Through brake and brier, John darted on; he was soon in the dark recesses of the forest, where the undergrowth was like a jungle. His fleet foot never tired in the chase, and, erelong, he spied a little red handkerchief upon the ground. Recognizing this to be Martha's, he gazed about him, and saw, by the token of broken bushes, that the girl had been dragged away from that spot up a rocky wall, which it seemed to him no foot could scale.Struggling to keep down his sickening dread, John determined to follow. He began to climb the steeprock. His faithful dog, who had kept close beside him, suddenly gave a low fierce growl, and the hair on its back bristled up in fury. John was already half-way up the cliff, when, on looking down, there, just wherehe had picked up the handkerchief, he saw a queer little old fellow, making shoes as quietly as if nothing at all had happened."Hallo, there!" roared John, for he suspected mischief.The old man looked up, and John saw that he had a young and rosy face with hair as gray as a badger's. The odd creature made signs that he was stone deaf, and beckoned John to come down. All this time, the dog was growling fearfully, and John took warning from the sign. He levelled his gun without more ado, and said:"Answer, you fellow. Who are you that have cheeks so fair, and an old man's locks?""I?" said the old man, hopping up with a dreadful grin, "you will know me soon enough, sirrah, for I am the devil's grandfather."He stretched out an arm that grew longer every minute, and his hands changed to the claws of a beast. John lost no time, but taking aim fired at the Wild Woodsman, for he it was, and none other. Bang! The friendly bullet made straight for the creature's heart, and though it did not kill him outright, the Wild Woodsman was sorely wounded. He fell over a log, groaning pitifully, and prayed John to come to the aid of a poor old man. John said, "That I will with another bullet," when the Wild Woodsman darted from the spot, and was lost in the thicket.After him went the dog, after the dog went John. Such a hunt there never was! Through spots in the woods where man's foot had never penetrated, into bogs, and into serpents' lairs, past the caves where bears were lurking; but no animal would touch John, for the Wild Woodsman was their deadly enemy.At last they came to a cleft in a little green hillock. Here was a hut covered with moss, and the Wild Woodsman,uttering a frantic yell, fell dead upon the threshold. John heard a shriek within the hut, and, dashing down the door, saw Martha, lying, bound with ropes made of plaited willow, in a corner.He flew to set her free; but, to his surprise, Martha did not appear to know him. She let him take her by the hand and lead her from the fearful spot where the inner walls were built of the bones of the Wild Woodsman's victims. She looked up into his face and smiled, and John saw she had lost her reason. He did not stop to pick up the jewels and gold, stolen from murdered travellers, with which the hut was strewn, but made all speed to leave behind the horrid place. He lifted Martha in his strong arms and carried her down a path along the far side of the mountain. A great storm arose, and the earth trembled under his feet; but he kept bravely on his way, and looking back saw the cleft in the hills widen; then a great gulf opened, fire and smoke burst forth, and the hut of the Wild Woodsman was swallowed forever from sight.John gave a shout of joy, and began singing a hymn in his clear young voice. The storm ceased. The clouds parted. Down in the valley below was their own peaceful village, and the sound of the evening bellscame floating up to him. Martha, who had lain in his arms as if asleep, stirred, and recognized him. Her strength returned, and she asked to walk beside him. Strangely enough, she said nothing of her late adventure, then or ever afterward. Not a trace of it remained in her memory.When they reached the village, all the people came out to meet them, rejoicing. John told them he had rescued the lost girl, but the true history of his chase of the Wild Woodsman he kept to himself. Martha's father and mother greeted her with tears of thankfulness; and before another year had gone by John and Martha were married in the village church. From that day forth, peace reigned upon the mountain-side; but when stories of the Wild Woodsman were told to Martha's grandchildren, they little knew the share their hale old grandsire had in ridding the country-side of such a scourge.THE FROZEN HEARTH-FAIRY.OONCEupon a time, there were a poor couple who lived in a little cottage overgrown with vines. From roof-tree to cellar, their home was as clean as hands could make it, and the table and chairs were scoured every day till they were as white as snow. The man went out into the woods to tie up fagots, and the woman kept a few bees, and sold the honey. In this way they managed to live, and were happy, till a great storm came, and swept off the roof of their house; then the lightning set it on fire, and it was soon burned to the ground. The man came running from the forest, and found his wife crying as if her heart would break, beside her bee-hives, which the wind had upset, scattering all their busy inmates, and destroying the honey."Where shall we sleep to-night?" said the wife."Let us search till we find," answered the husband. So they set off and wandered into the woods, while the storm raged over them. Long did they stray, until night came. At last they saw a ruined hut, left by some charcoal-burners, and thankfully entered it. There was dry straw in one corner, and here the poor woman laid down, half dead with fright and fatigue. Both of them were hungry, and the man putting his hand in his pouch was glad to find there a bit of bread, which he was about to give to his wife, when a queer little black object sprang down the wall and seized the crust, running nimbly off with it."Who are you?" cried the poor man."I'm a lost hearth-fairy," said the little creature, in a piping voice. "If you had made me a fire to warm my poor bones, I should not have taken your food."The hearth-fairy's teeth were chattering, and the man pulled together some sticks and straw, and lighted them with his flint and steel. The smoke curled up, the flames sparkled merrily. The hearth-fairy slid down and warmed himself."Hallo there! give me back my crust," said the poor man, whose wife kept pulling him by the sleeve, to remind him of her hunger."Now that I think of it, I want this crust myself," said the hearth-fairy. "I am off on a journey to seek a warm fireside, and I need something to strengthen me.But here is a duck instead, only you had better not kill her!"A fine fat duck tumbled at the poor man's feet. The hearth-fairy vanished in the smoke. Oh! how the poor couple longed to kill and eat that duck. Their mouths watered as they thought of onion-sauce, and of breadcrumbs, and of sage. Faint and starving, they fell asleep in a corner of the hut. When day broke the poor man rose up, and went to the door. The storm had ceased and the duck was quacking on the door-sill. She waddled away, and left behind her a large egg of purest gold. Just then the lord of the forest rode by with his huntsman.They saw the shining prize in the poor man's hand, and offered to buy it of him."I will give it for a loaf of brown bread and a sausage," he said, "for my wife lies starving, within."The huntsman gave him food and drink; and the lord of the forest, after hearing his story, had the poor couple taken to a nice empty cottage near by, and told them they should have it for their own. The golden egg was sold, and the man and his wife lived in comfort all their days from the money it fetched. They never saw either the hearth-fairy or the magic duck again, but the good wife soon went to bee-keeping, which made her very happy.ROSY'S STAY-AT-HOME PARTIES.OOH!dear, oh! dear," sighed Rosy, "I'm the most unhappy little girl in all the world."She was kneeling in a chair, gazing through the drawing-room window. In the street outside was drawn up a carriage, into which Nurse was packing all of Rosy's brothers and sisters. Clover was there, a boy of twelve, looking rather disgusted with his surroundings, and having his head nearly cut off by his first upright collar. Violet, Rosy's twin sister, was there, dressed in the sweetest new pale blue camel's-hair, and taking great care to turn the skirt of it up over her shoulders as she nestled into her corner of the landau. (Rosy thought with a pang of her own new dress, the double of Violet's, hanging upstairs in the wardrobe, in a melancholy way!) Jonquil was there, the chubby, golden-haired, big-eyedbrother, aged three. And last of all was dear wee Honeysuckle, like a bundle of lace and flannel in Marie's arms; while old Nurse's spectacles could hardly be seen through the mass of sash-ends and fluted petticoats, and scarlet stockings, and velvet breeches, and flying locks of hair completely filling the roomy carriage. No one could doubt that the children were going to a party, even if they had not announced that fact to everybody within ear-shot by the chatter of their busy little tongues!At last all were settled, and the carriage rolled away. "Good-by, Rosy," "Good-by, Rosy!" came up in a shrill chorus; and, the last Rosy's tear-dimmed eyes could see of them, hands and handkerchiefs were waving a farewell to the sister left behind.Then it was that Rosy's fortitude completely forsook her, and she dropped sobbing into the chair. It was a bitter disappointment, for the party was to be given by their aunt in honor of these children, and, in addition to Punch and Judy, magic, and a candy-bag, they were promised a huge bran-pie, full of delightful hidden presents. Rosy had suffered from a pretty bad sore-throat the night before, and the doctor had forbidden her going out. It is no use for grownpeople to say, dear children, these disappointments of yours don't matter much, for theydo. They seem as high as mountains in your path, and I fully sympathize with you all, and especially with little weeping Rosy.So thought her mamma, evidently, for she came into the room just then, and picked the little bunch of blue serge and cardinal ribbons up in her arms, and sat down with it in a low chair by the fire."Boo-hoo!" said Rosy, breaking out afresh when she felt mamma's kisses on her hair and wet cheeks. Mamma said very little, but by and by the little girl began to feel comforted, in spite of herself. You know how it is, dears! First, you stop roaring and moan, then your eyes are kissed dry, then you burrow your heads down and sigh, then you lie quite still for a little while—and at last, after blowing your noses in an heroic way, you are ready to laugh again!All this happened in Rosy's case, and for awhile she sat talking, until her mamma was called away to attend to some household matter. By that time Rosywas quite content to be tucked into a corner of the comfortable sofa, covered with a down quilt, and left to gaze into the depths of a woodfire, burning gently (for it had passed the spitting, spluttering stage), upon two great old-fashioned brass andirons with claw-feet and queer round bald heads.Around Rosy's couch was drawn a gay Japanese screen; before the fire was spread a great black bear-skin rug, and on either side of it stood a tall green porcelain jar. Clover always said these vases were like the ones in which Morgiana hid the Forty Thieves, and the children had more than once stuffed baby Honeysuckle into one of them to keep her out of mischief during what Nurse called their "rampagin's to split one's head."Over her mamma's writing-table, low enough for Rosy to look into the very heart of it, hung a picture in a broad gold frame. The picture was of a chestnut wood in Brittany, and standing in the shadow of a drooping bough was a little girl of about ten, her own age. One of the little peasant maiden's arms was clasped around the neck of a big dog, harnessed to a cart of vegetables. Under the other arm she held a fat goose with a dangling neck. Overhead, the skywas blue and the leaves seemed to be rustling in a summer wind. Around the feet of the tiny nut-brown maiden, with her odd high cap, grew tall heather and feathery ferns, with here and there a clump of flame-shaped lilies. When snow was on the ground outside Rosy always loved to gaze at this pretty scene, and to fancy herself stepping over the frame to have a chat about vegetables, and a ramble in the forest with Annette.Rosy's eyes wandered from one object to another in this pleasant room. Fluff, her mother's Skye terrier, curled up on her feet and fell asleep. The clock upon the mantel ticked softly, Fluff snored contentedly, little particles of burning wood pattered into the bed of glowing embers below. Even the familiar rumble of the street cars along the thoroughfare at the end of their block seemed more subdued than usual; and Rosy lay, never stirring, until—she found herself, without the least warning, slipping down through one of her mother's great porcelain jars, into Japan! Fluff woke up, and dashed to the rescue, with his fierce little "Rah!" of a bark; but there was nothing to be seen of Miss Rosy except the tip of a scarlet bow, with which Nurse was wont to adorn the summit of heryoung lady's head. She felt the rustle of the dried rose-leaves at the bottom of the jar falling over her in a fragrant shower, as she fell through space, pulling up, decidedly out of breath, in a very queer locality.It was a town where the houses looked as if they had been built for big dolls to live in. Houses with sliding walls, doors, and galleries made all of paper, that in two minutes you could take apart and pack up as youdo a box of Crandall's blocks. The streets were honeycombed with quaint booths, and crowded with human beings going in and out of them like bees. The carriages were babies' perambulators, drawn by a tandem team of brown-skinned men, wearing a single garment each, and umbrella hats.There were no horses to be seen, but the cows wore blue cotton wrappers and shoes made of straw. Men, women, and children, at first sight, seemed to be dressed alike, all clattering around on high clogs, stooping painfully; and the funny little bald-headed babies were either carried pick-a-back by their mammas, or else were tucked in the breast of their fathers' loose wrappers, together with pipes, tobacco pouches, books, and a variety of other useful articles.Rosy looked about her in astonishment, till a girl came up and saluted her with solemn politeness, inviting her to a party, which was just about to begin. "You had better have your hair dressed first," the girl said, "and I will lend you a decent frock.""Very well," said Rosy, thinking fondly of the blue camel's-hair in the wardrobe at home; "of course, this old every-day serge won't do for a party."The girl took her to the shop of a female barber,who made Rosy kneel down before a mirror of polished steel, and parted her hair in two or three long manes, which were stiffened with bandoline, and tied withpaper twine in a wonderful bow-knot on top. A fine tortoise-shell skewer was added, and the barberess, stepping back to survey her work, caught sight of Rosy's eyebrows."Tut, tut," she said, angrily; "what were her parents thinking of to let them grow like this?" And without more ado Rosy's eyebrows were shaved off, and her face and neck were daubed with a thick white paste. Her under lip had a patch of red paint, and her teeth were stained with some horrid black mixture. Then she went with the Japanese girl into a paper house, where the party was to be held, and the girl lent her a loose silk gown, tied round the waist bya wide sash of pink crêpe. On her feet were put foot mittens of white cloth, with a separate place for the big toe, and high lacquered clogs."How can I walk?" said Rosy, tottering around when she was finally equipped in her narrow uncomfortable garments."Sh-h! the company is arriving!" said her hostess; and as there was no furniture, not even a chair, Rosy wondered where the company would sit. The company solved this difficulty by sitting on the floor; and then trays were handed around, containing all sorts of wonderful sweetmeats, flowers and fruits in lovely colors, with conserved fruits, sugared beans, and candy fish, animals, and birds. Each dainty was more tempting than the one before, and Rosy found the loose front of her Japanese gown the very thing for a "party-pocket," if any of you know what that means!Next came games; "Lady-go-to-see," "Sick man-and-doctor," Alphabet-cards, and Proverbs; and then, more sweetmeats. Pleasant as it was, a sudden stop was put to the entertainment, by a commotion, everybody seizing hold of another, all with frightened faces. Without warning, an earthquake came and turned the house upside down. Everybody fell out on theground but Rosy, who flew up in the air, becoming entangled in the tail of a huge man-kite, carried along by the wind at a fearful rate of speed.Rosy thought this much more exciting than any coasting down hill she had ever tried; and she flew up, up, until the tail of the kite gave a flop, tossing her through a rift in the clouds. There she was, passing again through the bottom of the porcelain-jar, and in another moment she had landed in the very centre of the bear-skin hearth-rug.Rosy was just getting her breath, and wondering how she came to have her hair hanging in the usual tawny stream, when, to her great surprise, the bear-skin began to move."Hold on tight there. We are off," it said, in a low growling tone, though not unkindly. "Want to go to a party, hey? Well, I'll see what we can do for you in my part of the world.""Really you take one so unpleasantly by surprise," exclaimed poor Rosy, as she felt herself again setting forth on an airy journey. "It is so cold here, I wish you had let me stop for my seal-skin jacket.""Don't talk about seal-skins, child. We are going where you will see enough of them. Ho! but it'sgrand there, up among the icebergs and the everlasting snow-drifts, where the frozen lakes gleam like red jewels in the light of the sun that never sets! Merry sports you'll see between my brothers and sisters!""But I should be dreadfully afraid of them," began Rosy, trembling. "I have never met any bears outside of cages;" but the words were frozen on her tongue, and some tears coming into her eyes rolled in little round icicles into her lap.Now they came to a world of ice and snow. Even the fir-trees were no longer seen. Clinging to the rocks was a little rough moss, which served for reindeers' food. All else was chill and glittering—the sky arched with radiant pink that seemed to palpitate. Far below them was a polar sea, locking in chill embrace a lonely ship, her shrouds sheathed in ice, her ribs cracked against the huge silvery bulk of an iceberg, on whose jagged side she leaned despairingly—no sign of life on board. Rosy shuddered and shut her eyes, only opening them again when the bear-skin set her down at the side of an odd little hut, built on a barren point of land above the ice-bound water.This hut was made of blocks of ice, the chinks filledin with moss, and snow-caked over all. On top was a hole whence issued a faint curl of smoke, and out of an opening, somewhere, crawled a funny Esquimaux lady, apparently as broad as she was long. She welcomed Rosy politely, and took her in to the fire, a civility Rosy thought she could have done without. The whole family was collected there, with some guests invited in Rosy's honor, who had come in sledges drawn by dogs over the snow. The dogs also were within, and half a dozen children. It made Rosy think of the worms in Clover's can the days when her brother went a-fishing, so closely packed and squirming were her new-found friends. The place was full of smoke, and smelled of fish oil. The feast consisted of frozen whale's blubber, handed around to be gnawed by the company, and of salt fish dried without cooking, with strips of reindeer meat. Rosy tried to be very agreeable to everybody present, but when they brought her the baby to kiss, she almost fainted! It was the greasiest little thing, without a stitch of clothes on! By-and-by, sleep overpowered the traveller, and Mrs. Esquimaux laid a skin before the fire, offering her, for a pillow, whatdoyou think? that self-same greasy baby!As this ceremony is an especial compliment to a stranger among the Esquimaux, no one can refuse it; and Rosy, with much compunction, laid her head down on the poor little thing, who took it all as cheerfully as possible.Scarcely had the weary traveller closed her eyes, when she opened them again on the lounge in the drawing-room at home!There, looking down on her with a friendly smile, was the little Breton maiden in the chestnut wood."Come to my party," Rosy heard her whisper; and, charmed with such a pretty new playmate, she stretched out her hands. The little French girl dropped the goose from under her arm, and leaned out of her gold frame to help Rosy, who, in two or three steps was safely beside her, treading down the tall heather, and stirring the butterflies from their haunts among the flowers. How green, and cool, and sweet it was, under the arching boughs. Far as the eye could reach, on every side, were leaves rustling in the fragrant air; and the trunks of the ancient trees were gray and hoar as the beards of the old Druids who once haunted them. Annette, for so the peasant maid was called, told Rosy many strange and interesting tales about this forest asthey walked on, followed by the faithful dog dragging his cart of vegetables so carefully that he did not need a word or look to guide him."Ours is one of the oldest inhabited parts of France," said the girl, proudly; "I can tell you stories about every tree and rock and hill in the country-side, and I will, if you like to hear them; but we must make haste to reach the market now, before the sun rises high enough to drink the dew from my vegetables. I was up before day to pick them, and my father has promised me that, if I sell all, I shall have a party in the glen. Only think! Not to work in the field all the afternoon—and to have as many chestnuts as we choose, a whole loaf of brown bread, and perhaps—if the step-mother is good humored—a slice of seed-cake!"Rosy thought this a very poor sort of a party; but she found Annette such good company that it seemed no hardship to trudge along the hot and dusty road beside her, when they emerged from the shelter of the wood. The two girls laughed and made merry until they reached the market town, and there the good dog came to a halt, while Annette arranged her cress and lettuces and beans and potatoes in tempting rows upon the stall—standing beside them with such apatient smiling face, that many passers-by were induced to buy of her. The fat goose went home in the basket of a fat housekeeper, and left in his place a pile of silver pieces. So, Annette and Rosy soon turned back to trudge again the dusty high-road, talking of the party they were to have in the glen that afternoon.Annette's home, which the two tired little travellers reached at last, was a quaint cottage, the steep moss-grown roof looking twice the height of its walls. Over the door grew a twisted pear-tree, and all the ground around it, excepting the garden patch in a sheltered spot behind, was one waving mass of heather, strewn with gray boulders of mossy rock. Rosy gave a little cry of delight."Why, it is thesweetestplace," she cried. "It is like a bird's nest, Annette. How happy you must be here."Annette was about to answer, when out of the door came a cross step-mother, who began scolding as soon as she saw the girls, snatched the pouch of silver money from Annette's side, ordered her to the right and left, and then, tired as the poor child was, harnessed her to the cart beside the dog, and made her draw a heavypile of linen to the brook, where she was at once set to work to help her step-mother in the family washing. Rosy, half-starved by her long fast, was glad to share Annette's meagre dinner of brown bread and a handful of boiled chestnuts, eaten under a tree by the brookside. Annette ventured to remind her step-mother of the promised party, and, for answer, received a smart box on the ear."Is it a princess I have got to do my work, perchance?" said the cross old thing. "Thy father is far enough off in the field, not here to spoil thee, by luck; so do thou and that idle girl yonder set to work and finish washing the linen. That's party enough for trapesing girls, inmymind!"So Rosy, too, was forced into service, and all through the long afternoon she toiled with aching limbs. When night came, she and Annette were glad to seek a straw bed in a tiny roof-chamber and cry themselves to sleep."Never mind," said Annette, patiently; "to-morrow, perhaps, she may be kinder, and after we have worked all the forenoon in the field, who knows but we may have our party yet?"Rosy remembered nothing more, except openingher eyes full upon the hearth in her mother's drawing-room, where she was immediately addressed by one of the old-fashioned brass andirons."I should just like to show you what a party was inmytime," it said, in a cracked, high-pitched voice. "We, sister Peggy and I, belonged, as you know, to your mother's grandmother—a good old Revolutionary stock—and we lived in the old house up yonder in Salem, Massachusetts, until your mother took it into her fanciful head to fetch us here. I should like to know what we have in common with that little fiddle-faddle Dresden china clock and shepherdesses upon the mantel-piece! However, I won't talk about my grievances, for sister Peggy always says that it is in very bad taste, and sister Peggy knows. We lived in the room where your grandmother was born, my dear, and her first cap was fitted upon sister Peggy's knob——""Will she never stop to take breath," Rosy wondered. "I am dying to ask her a question. What's your name?" she suddenly called out, so abruptly as to make the old andiron jump, and let fall a broken brand upon the hearth."Dear me, child, how you fluttered me!" it said, reprovingly. "I am sister Polly, of course, as youwould have heard in due time. Sister Peggy always says that little girls should be seen and not heard, and sister Peggy knows—Where was I—Oh! when your grandmother grew old enough to invite her little friends to share her hospitality, the boys and girls would arrive at about three o'clock in the afternoon. The girls wore plain print gowns, and muslin aprons edged with tambour work. Instead of that insane mop of hair you sport, with a bow in the middle, looking for the world and all like your terrier, Fluff, they had decent mob caps. Their hands were covered with mittens, and each one earned a bag with a piece of white seam (or plain stitching), or else a sampler frame. How pretty it was to see them sitting down to their work for awhile! Then the tea-table was spread, with flowered china cups and plates, and shining silver, muffins, crumpets, sliced ham, home-made preserves and cream, and waffles strewn with cinnamon and sugar——""You make my mouth water," said Rosy."All this took place by five o'clock," said sister Polly, "and afterward the children had a good game of 'blind-man's-buff,' or 'hunt-the-slipper'—and a handful of nuts with a big red apple, to stuff in eachof their pockets upon going home. I remember a very little party your mamma had once, when she was a child——""Do you? Tell me about it, please," said Rosy, eagerly, for nothing was ever so enchanting to those children as stories about their mamma in her youth."She was just getting over the measles, and had been very much petted during her convalescence. Your grandmother promised her, in reward for taking a rather nasty dose of medicine, that she should have her little cousins from next door, to drink tea on a trunk. This was an especial treat to your mamma. A large flat-topped trunk served as table for the little girls and their dollies. On it were spread the china doll tea-things, and when they did not suffice in size or numbers, leaves from the grape-vine above the dining-room porch, were also heaped with goodies. Those children were satisfied with broken bits of peppermint stick, ginger-nuts, wee biscuit, lemonade for tea, and in the centre of the table a dish of horse-cakes.""Oh, I know!" said Rosy, with much interest. "Mamma has often told us about horse-cakes, and the funny little old shop where she used to buy them for a cent apiece. They had currants for eyes, and thechildren never knew whether to begin to eat at the head first or the tail——""Exactly," said sister Polly. "Well, as I was saying, four little girls in clean white birds'-eye pinafores assembled around the trunk-party, your mamma at the head, to pour out the lemonade tea. Each guest had a dolly in her lap, and your mamma had twins on hers. I think the difficulty began by her insisting that the twins should have a double share of all the good things, which the guests, with some warmth, disputed. At any rate, it is a sad tale to tell you, but a true one; a quarrel set in, and what should the hostess do, but burst into tears, declare that her company were mean horrid things, and then, dragging at the table-cloth, whisk the entire contents of the tea-table upon the floor!""Oh!" said Rosy, "did my mamma do that? I don't believe a word of it! You are nothing but an old tattle-tale, sister Polly, and I don't believe sister Peggy is any better!"Scarcely had Rosy uttered these disrespectful words, when the enraged sister Polly and sister Peggy flew out upon her from the fireplace. Seizing her in their brassy claws, they shook the little girl fiercely, bumpingher head first on one side, then on the other, between their knobs.Rosy screamed for help, and heard in return a merry peal of laughter. She felt a warm shower of kisses on her face; and, opening her eyes, saw Clover and Violet, Jonquil and the baby, mamma and the nurses, standing in a laughing circle around her couch, while Fluff nearly barked his head off in the general excitement."Rosy, you had the funniest nightmare!" said Violet; "see here, what a lovely bracelet was in the bran-pie for you, and we've all saved you some of our bonbons.""It was rather a bully Punch and Judy," remarked Clover, patronizingly. "That is, for the little ones, you know;I'veseen such lots of 'em.""Punch said, 'Doody, Doody, bing up de baby,'" squeaked happy little Jonquil, capering about.Baby Honeysuckle had gone to sleep, after her first party.Rosy jumped up, and kissed everybody around twice."Dear knows I've had enough of parties," she declared joyfully; but nobody knew what she meant!BLONDINA;OR,THE TURKEY-QUEEN.AACERTAINking had two daughters, one of them lovely and accomplished, and the other an ugly, cross-tempered personage, who early in life took to meddling with the black arts, and learned a great deal more of magic than she did of any thing else. Blondina, on the contrary—for so the pretty princess was named—was the joy of all her nurses, and governesses, and tutors, and music masters, from earliest infancy. Her one fault was a tendency to laugh aloud on the slightest provocation. At ten years old she could speak many languages, play on all known instruments, write essays and sermons, dance like a sylph, sing like a nightingale, and make chocolate caramel. Vixetta, the elder of the two sisters, before she had reached the same age, had made short work ofherinstructors, wearing out the health and spirits of agoverness in a week, and driving twenty-four tutors into the lunatic asylum, while her head-nurse was speedily reduced to skin and bone, and took a permanent situation as the living skeleton in a dime-museum.VixettaVixettaThe poor king remonstrated in vain with his headstrong elder daughter. Ordinary scolding had not the slightest effect upon her; black marks and crosses against her name in the report-book only made her laugh scornfully; and any attempt at bodily punishment ended in the Princess Vixetta throwing herself flat upon the ground, turning purple in the face, and foaming at the mouth with rage in a way to daunt the stoutest spirit. So, for this reason, the unfortunate girl was allowed to follow her own fancies, stealing off at dusk nobody knew whither, although itwas suspected that her favorite haunts were the black depths of a pine forest near the palace—where the country folk never cared to ramble, even in broad daylight—or a certain ruined tower, filled with bats and owls and serpents. One night a peasant, who approached this tower in search of a lost cow, saw green lights dancing madly around the broken walls, heard wild shrieks of laughter issue from within, and, on venturing to insert his inquisitive nose into a chink, had it tweaked by two red-hot fingers; immediately afterward, he averred, he had seen the Princess Vixetta, in true witch-dress, shoot by him on a broom-stick, leaving a trail of brimstone in her wake. On reaching home he found his sheep dead, his best cows gone dry, and his children ill of a fever. Such tales as these, of which there were many current in the country-side, came from time to time to the king's ears, and not being able to gainsay them,because of information he had got on his own private account, the unfortunate parent resigned himself to sink slowly to the tomb. In fact he courted death rather than shunned it. Whenever he took cold, he would sit all night long, in wet shoes, in the draft of two open windows; and if that did not make him worse, would send away the doctors, refuse medicine,and try to beat his brains out on the marble floor of the palace bedroom. At last, one day, he choked, on too large a mouthful of beefsteak, and when the physicians endeavored to relieve him, waved them away, and cheerfully expired!Blondina.Blondina.The Princess Blondina was immediately proclaimed queen in her father's stead. Nothing was heard but praises of the charming new sovereign, who, after theperiod of mourning had passed away, ascended the throne with much pomp and ceremony. All of this was gall and worm-wood to the envious Vixetta, who, but for the kindness of her sister, would have been sent, by a vote of all the people, into exile in a distant land. Blondina announced that the Princess Vixetta should remain in her palace, and be offered an opportunity to reform her bad ways. Vixetta, thereupon, pretending to weep, promised to do better, and to give up associating with her evil favorites, the witches, warlocks, and magicians; but, in secret, her time was spent in conjuring a method to get rid of her beautiful sister, and to mount the throne in her stead.One warm summer day, Queen Blondina had just come in from rowing in her silver barge along the windings of the little river which watered the palace grounds. She rested for a while in the garden upon a bank of roses, myrtles, jasmine, and lilies-of-the-valley, while allowing her maids-of-honor to fan her with huge fans of white ostrich plumes, and listening to the drip of fountains of orange-flower water, and eau-de-cologne. Suddenly, she espied a poor old tattered crone, carrying a basket of luscious fruit, such as none of the queen's own gardens or green-houses could produce.Pomegranates there were, dropping sweetest juices when cleft in twain, purple figs that melted upon the tongue, rosy nectarines, crimson plums frosted with silvery dew, and bunches of grapes glowing like jewels where the sunbeams touched their clusters. Queen Blondina sat up, and exclaimed with delight, "Oh! Goody, pray set your basket down. My servants will pay you handsomely for your lovely fruit.""Willingly, your Majesty," said the old woman. "You are welcome to the contents of my basket, if you will but leave me the single hazel-nut at the very bottom of it."Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.The queen consented, with a laugh at the absurdity of her wanting that one insignificant little hazel-nut, when such a delightful treat was at her service. Her servants unpacked the basket, and there, sure enough, at the bottom, was a tiny brown nut."Queer, that she should desire to keep back that one little nut," thought the queen. "I wonder why? Can it be so very delicious to the taste, or what? I wish I could see its inside."And so she went on, wondering, and exciting her own imagination, till, pretty soon, Blondina would have given all the rest of the basketful for the possessionof that single mysterious nut! She began by offering one gold piece, then another, till a glittering pile lay at the crone's feet, but still the old woman held out against parting with her treasure.At last, Blondina burst into tears, when the crone appeared to be melted by her sorrow, and, advancing, whispered in her ear."If I give you this nut," she said, "it shall be on one condition, only, your Majesty; and that is, that you crack it in the presence of your prime minister alone, in some remote corner of your palace."Blondina gladly consented, and sending away her attendants, took possession of the nut, and summoned her prime minister to her side. This functionary was a very stern and important officer of State, who had been foremost in the movement to banish the Princess Vixetta from the court. He arrived all breathless, at the queen's behest, and in the meantime the old crone had disappeared as mysteriously as she came. Blondina ordered the prime minister to follow her to a secluded summer-house, where, eagerly cracking the nut with her royal high-heeled shoe, she found inside only a few pinches of white powder, and a scroll containing some fine writing in an unknown tongue."Thanks to my love of study, your Majesty," modestly suggested the prime minister, "I have mastered the only language you have left unacquired, which happens to be Arabic. On this bit of paper, I can decipher certain instructions to the finder.""Tell me them, quickly, my dear lord," said the enchanted princess, "and I will apply myself to the study of Arabic to-morrow. So much for a neglected education," she added, with a sigh that she had left anything so important undone; for, as I have said before, this princess had a passion for acquiring languages."If the finder of this treasure desires to acquaint himself with the language of the animal world, and to take the form of any other living thing, he has only to snuff up a pinch of the enclosed powder, bow to the earth three times, and cry the name of the creature he desires to become, followed by these exact words:—

THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.THE WILD WOODSMAN.OONCEthere lived a peasant whose only daughter, Martha, had eyes as blue as corn-flowers and long hair like the silk around an ear of corn. All the lads of the village were after her, but she cared only for John, a young huntsman, who was called by her father an idle vagabond, and sent away from his cottage in disdain. Now, the village where they lived was at the foot of a high mountain covered with a dense forest, into certain portions of which few were found to venture, so wild and lonely they were. One day Martha went, unknown to her father and mother, to ramble in the forest. She said to some of her friends that she meant to gather flowers and pick berries, to sell to a rich lady who lived near them; but the truthwas, that a week had passed without John having set foot in the village, and she was anxious and uneasy, and wished to visit some of her lover's favorite haunts, to see if he might be there. It was no uncommon thing for John to be absent for several days, while trapping and hunting. He could sleep as well on a bank of moss as on his pallet at home, and he loved to go to rest under the broad canopy of the sky, studded with bright stars, and to be lulled by the music of falling waters.Martha, dressed in her brown cotton frock, with the scarlet handkerchief knotted over her fair hair, was seen to go up a rocky pathway on the mountain-side, where the firs and larches made a bower overhead; but that night she did not come home, and next day, when John came into the village with a splendid string of birds he had shot miles away from there, in an opposite direction to the one Martha had taken, it was to hear the sad news of the poor girl's disappearance.John's face grew pale and his stout heart grew faint; he thought of what all the others were thinking of—the Wild Woodsman, against whose magic his gun and staff might avail nothing!The mountain above was believed to be the haunt of a mysterious being, half man, half brute, fierce and cruel, from whose den no living creature might ever be rescued. The Wild Woodsman, for so the natives called him, took many a shape to trap unwary travellers, and a fair young girl like Martha would be a rich prize for him. John had long vowed to capture the Wild Woodsman; and now he was filled with a mad thirst to seek him at once. Without stopping to hear more, the young man rushed off up the steep mountain path, bounding like a chamois from rock to rock, as the villagers, awe-struck and tearful, gazed after him and crossed themselves in superstitious fear.Through brake and brier, John darted on; he was soon in the dark recesses of the forest, where the undergrowth was like a jungle. His fleet foot never tired in the chase, and, erelong, he spied a little red handkerchief upon the ground. Recognizing this to be Martha's, he gazed about him, and saw, by the token of broken bushes, that the girl had been dragged away from that spot up a rocky wall, which it seemed to him no foot could scale.Struggling to keep down his sickening dread, John determined to follow. He began to climb the steeprock. His faithful dog, who had kept close beside him, suddenly gave a low fierce growl, and the hair on its back bristled up in fury. John was already half-way up the cliff, when, on looking down, there, just wherehe had picked up the handkerchief, he saw a queer little old fellow, making shoes as quietly as if nothing at all had happened."Hallo, there!" roared John, for he suspected mischief.The old man looked up, and John saw that he had a young and rosy face with hair as gray as a badger's. The odd creature made signs that he was stone deaf, and beckoned John to come down. All this time, the dog was growling fearfully, and John took warning from the sign. He levelled his gun without more ado, and said:"Answer, you fellow. Who are you that have cheeks so fair, and an old man's locks?""I?" said the old man, hopping up with a dreadful grin, "you will know me soon enough, sirrah, for I am the devil's grandfather."He stretched out an arm that grew longer every minute, and his hands changed to the claws of a beast. John lost no time, but taking aim fired at the Wild Woodsman, for he it was, and none other. Bang! The friendly bullet made straight for the creature's heart, and though it did not kill him outright, the Wild Woodsman was sorely wounded. He fell over a log, groaning pitifully, and prayed John to come to the aid of a poor old man. John said, "That I will with another bullet," when the Wild Woodsman darted from the spot, and was lost in the thicket.After him went the dog, after the dog went John. Such a hunt there never was! Through spots in the woods where man's foot had never penetrated, into bogs, and into serpents' lairs, past the caves where bears were lurking; but no animal would touch John, for the Wild Woodsman was their deadly enemy.At last they came to a cleft in a little green hillock. Here was a hut covered with moss, and the Wild Woodsman,uttering a frantic yell, fell dead upon the threshold. John heard a shriek within the hut, and, dashing down the door, saw Martha, lying, bound with ropes made of plaited willow, in a corner.He flew to set her free; but, to his surprise, Martha did not appear to know him. She let him take her by the hand and lead her from the fearful spot where the inner walls were built of the bones of the Wild Woodsman's victims. She looked up into his face and smiled, and John saw she had lost her reason. He did not stop to pick up the jewels and gold, stolen from murdered travellers, with which the hut was strewn, but made all speed to leave behind the horrid place. He lifted Martha in his strong arms and carried her down a path along the far side of the mountain. A great storm arose, and the earth trembled under his feet; but he kept bravely on his way, and looking back saw the cleft in the hills widen; then a great gulf opened, fire and smoke burst forth, and the hut of the Wild Woodsman was swallowed forever from sight.John gave a shout of joy, and began singing a hymn in his clear young voice. The storm ceased. The clouds parted. Down in the valley below was their own peaceful village, and the sound of the evening bellscame floating up to him. Martha, who had lain in his arms as if asleep, stirred, and recognized him. Her strength returned, and she asked to walk beside him. Strangely enough, she said nothing of her late adventure, then or ever afterward. Not a trace of it remained in her memory.When they reached the village, all the people came out to meet them, rejoicing. John told them he had rescued the lost girl, but the true history of his chase of the Wild Woodsman he kept to himself. Martha's father and mother greeted her with tears of thankfulness; and before another year had gone by John and Martha were married in the village church. From that day forth, peace reigned upon the mountain-side; but when stories of the Wild Woodsman were told to Martha's grandchildren, they little knew the share their hale old grandsire had in ridding the country-side of such a scourge.THE FROZEN HEARTH-FAIRY.OONCEupon a time, there were a poor couple who lived in a little cottage overgrown with vines. From roof-tree to cellar, their home was as clean as hands could make it, and the table and chairs were scoured every day till they were as white as snow. The man went out into the woods to tie up fagots, and the woman kept a few bees, and sold the honey. In this way they managed to live, and were happy, till a great storm came, and swept off the roof of their house; then the lightning set it on fire, and it was soon burned to the ground. The man came running from the forest, and found his wife crying as if her heart would break, beside her bee-hives, which the wind had upset, scattering all their busy inmates, and destroying the honey."Where shall we sleep to-night?" said the wife."Let us search till we find," answered the husband. So they set off and wandered into the woods, while the storm raged over them. Long did they stray, until night came. At last they saw a ruined hut, left by some charcoal-burners, and thankfully entered it. There was dry straw in one corner, and here the poor woman laid down, half dead with fright and fatigue. Both of them were hungry, and the man putting his hand in his pouch was glad to find there a bit of bread, which he was about to give to his wife, when a queer little black object sprang down the wall and seized the crust, running nimbly off with it."Who are you?" cried the poor man."I'm a lost hearth-fairy," said the little creature, in a piping voice. "If you had made me a fire to warm my poor bones, I should not have taken your food."The hearth-fairy's teeth were chattering, and the man pulled together some sticks and straw, and lighted them with his flint and steel. The smoke curled up, the flames sparkled merrily. The hearth-fairy slid down and warmed himself."Hallo there! give me back my crust," said the poor man, whose wife kept pulling him by the sleeve, to remind him of her hunger."Now that I think of it, I want this crust myself," said the hearth-fairy. "I am off on a journey to seek a warm fireside, and I need something to strengthen me.But here is a duck instead, only you had better not kill her!"A fine fat duck tumbled at the poor man's feet. The hearth-fairy vanished in the smoke. Oh! how the poor couple longed to kill and eat that duck. Their mouths watered as they thought of onion-sauce, and of breadcrumbs, and of sage. Faint and starving, they fell asleep in a corner of the hut. When day broke the poor man rose up, and went to the door. The storm had ceased and the duck was quacking on the door-sill. She waddled away, and left behind her a large egg of purest gold. Just then the lord of the forest rode by with his huntsman.They saw the shining prize in the poor man's hand, and offered to buy it of him."I will give it for a loaf of brown bread and a sausage," he said, "for my wife lies starving, within."The huntsman gave him food and drink; and the lord of the forest, after hearing his story, had the poor couple taken to a nice empty cottage near by, and told them they should have it for their own. The golden egg was sold, and the man and his wife lived in comfort all their days from the money it fetched. They never saw either the hearth-fairy or the magic duck again, but the good wife soon went to bee-keeping, which made her very happy.ROSY'S STAY-AT-HOME PARTIES.OOH!dear, oh! dear," sighed Rosy, "I'm the most unhappy little girl in all the world."She was kneeling in a chair, gazing through the drawing-room window. In the street outside was drawn up a carriage, into which Nurse was packing all of Rosy's brothers and sisters. Clover was there, a boy of twelve, looking rather disgusted with his surroundings, and having his head nearly cut off by his first upright collar. Violet, Rosy's twin sister, was there, dressed in the sweetest new pale blue camel's-hair, and taking great care to turn the skirt of it up over her shoulders as she nestled into her corner of the landau. (Rosy thought with a pang of her own new dress, the double of Violet's, hanging upstairs in the wardrobe, in a melancholy way!) Jonquil was there, the chubby, golden-haired, big-eyedbrother, aged three. And last of all was dear wee Honeysuckle, like a bundle of lace and flannel in Marie's arms; while old Nurse's spectacles could hardly be seen through the mass of sash-ends and fluted petticoats, and scarlet stockings, and velvet breeches, and flying locks of hair completely filling the roomy carriage. No one could doubt that the children were going to a party, even if they had not announced that fact to everybody within ear-shot by the chatter of their busy little tongues!At last all were settled, and the carriage rolled away. "Good-by, Rosy," "Good-by, Rosy!" came up in a shrill chorus; and, the last Rosy's tear-dimmed eyes could see of them, hands and handkerchiefs were waving a farewell to the sister left behind.Then it was that Rosy's fortitude completely forsook her, and she dropped sobbing into the chair. It was a bitter disappointment, for the party was to be given by their aunt in honor of these children, and, in addition to Punch and Judy, magic, and a candy-bag, they were promised a huge bran-pie, full of delightful hidden presents. Rosy had suffered from a pretty bad sore-throat the night before, and the doctor had forbidden her going out. It is no use for grownpeople to say, dear children, these disappointments of yours don't matter much, for theydo. They seem as high as mountains in your path, and I fully sympathize with you all, and especially with little weeping Rosy.So thought her mamma, evidently, for she came into the room just then, and picked the little bunch of blue serge and cardinal ribbons up in her arms, and sat down with it in a low chair by the fire."Boo-hoo!" said Rosy, breaking out afresh when she felt mamma's kisses on her hair and wet cheeks. Mamma said very little, but by and by the little girl began to feel comforted, in spite of herself. You know how it is, dears! First, you stop roaring and moan, then your eyes are kissed dry, then you burrow your heads down and sigh, then you lie quite still for a little while—and at last, after blowing your noses in an heroic way, you are ready to laugh again!All this happened in Rosy's case, and for awhile she sat talking, until her mamma was called away to attend to some household matter. By that time Rosywas quite content to be tucked into a corner of the comfortable sofa, covered with a down quilt, and left to gaze into the depths of a woodfire, burning gently (for it had passed the spitting, spluttering stage), upon two great old-fashioned brass andirons with claw-feet and queer round bald heads.Around Rosy's couch was drawn a gay Japanese screen; before the fire was spread a great black bear-skin rug, and on either side of it stood a tall green porcelain jar. Clover always said these vases were like the ones in which Morgiana hid the Forty Thieves, and the children had more than once stuffed baby Honeysuckle into one of them to keep her out of mischief during what Nurse called their "rampagin's to split one's head."Over her mamma's writing-table, low enough for Rosy to look into the very heart of it, hung a picture in a broad gold frame. The picture was of a chestnut wood in Brittany, and standing in the shadow of a drooping bough was a little girl of about ten, her own age. One of the little peasant maiden's arms was clasped around the neck of a big dog, harnessed to a cart of vegetables. Under the other arm she held a fat goose with a dangling neck. Overhead, the skywas blue and the leaves seemed to be rustling in a summer wind. Around the feet of the tiny nut-brown maiden, with her odd high cap, grew tall heather and feathery ferns, with here and there a clump of flame-shaped lilies. When snow was on the ground outside Rosy always loved to gaze at this pretty scene, and to fancy herself stepping over the frame to have a chat about vegetables, and a ramble in the forest with Annette.Rosy's eyes wandered from one object to another in this pleasant room. Fluff, her mother's Skye terrier, curled up on her feet and fell asleep. The clock upon the mantel ticked softly, Fluff snored contentedly, little particles of burning wood pattered into the bed of glowing embers below. Even the familiar rumble of the street cars along the thoroughfare at the end of their block seemed more subdued than usual; and Rosy lay, never stirring, until—she found herself, without the least warning, slipping down through one of her mother's great porcelain jars, into Japan! Fluff woke up, and dashed to the rescue, with his fierce little "Rah!" of a bark; but there was nothing to be seen of Miss Rosy except the tip of a scarlet bow, with which Nurse was wont to adorn the summit of heryoung lady's head. She felt the rustle of the dried rose-leaves at the bottom of the jar falling over her in a fragrant shower, as she fell through space, pulling up, decidedly out of breath, in a very queer locality.It was a town where the houses looked as if they had been built for big dolls to live in. Houses with sliding walls, doors, and galleries made all of paper, that in two minutes you could take apart and pack up as youdo a box of Crandall's blocks. The streets were honeycombed with quaint booths, and crowded with human beings going in and out of them like bees. The carriages were babies' perambulators, drawn by a tandem team of brown-skinned men, wearing a single garment each, and umbrella hats.There were no horses to be seen, but the cows wore blue cotton wrappers and shoes made of straw. Men, women, and children, at first sight, seemed to be dressed alike, all clattering around on high clogs, stooping painfully; and the funny little bald-headed babies were either carried pick-a-back by their mammas, or else were tucked in the breast of their fathers' loose wrappers, together with pipes, tobacco pouches, books, and a variety of other useful articles.Rosy looked about her in astonishment, till a girl came up and saluted her with solemn politeness, inviting her to a party, which was just about to begin. "You had better have your hair dressed first," the girl said, "and I will lend you a decent frock.""Very well," said Rosy, thinking fondly of the blue camel's-hair in the wardrobe at home; "of course, this old every-day serge won't do for a party."The girl took her to the shop of a female barber,who made Rosy kneel down before a mirror of polished steel, and parted her hair in two or three long manes, which were stiffened with bandoline, and tied withpaper twine in a wonderful bow-knot on top. A fine tortoise-shell skewer was added, and the barberess, stepping back to survey her work, caught sight of Rosy's eyebrows."Tut, tut," she said, angrily; "what were her parents thinking of to let them grow like this?" And without more ado Rosy's eyebrows were shaved off, and her face and neck were daubed with a thick white paste. Her under lip had a patch of red paint, and her teeth were stained with some horrid black mixture. Then she went with the Japanese girl into a paper house, where the party was to be held, and the girl lent her a loose silk gown, tied round the waist bya wide sash of pink crêpe. On her feet were put foot mittens of white cloth, with a separate place for the big toe, and high lacquered clogs."How can I walk?" said Rosy, tottering around when she was finally equipped in her narrow uncomfortable garments."Sh-h! the company is arriving!" said her hostess; and as there was no furniture, not even a chair, Rosy wondered where the company would sit. The company solved this difficulty by sitting on the floor; and then trays were handed around, containing all sorts of wonderful sweetmeats, flowers and fruits in lovely colors, with conserved fruits, sugared beans, and candy fish, animals, and birds. Each dainty was more tempting than the one before, and Rosy found the loose front of her Japanese gown the very thing for a "party-pocket," if any of you know what that means!Next came games; "Lady-go-to-see," "Sick man-and-doctor," Alphabet-cards, and Proverbs; and then, more sweetmeats. Pleasant as it was, a sudden stop was put to the entertainment, by a commotion, everybody seizing hold of another, all with frightened faces. Without warning, an earthquake came and turned the house upside down. Everybody fell out on theground but Rosy, who flew up in the air, becoming entangled in the tail of a huge man-kite, carried along by the wind at a fearful rate of speed.Rosy thought this much more exciting than any coasting down hill she had ever tried; and she flew up, up, until the tail of the kite gave a flop, tossing her through a rift in the clouds. There she was, passing again through the bottom of the porcelain-jar, and in another moment she had landed in the very centre of the bear-skin hearth-rug.Rosy was just getting her breath, and wondering how she came to have her hair hanging in the usual tawny stream, when, to her great surprise, the bear-skin began to move."Hold on tight there. We are off," it said, in a low growling tone, though not unkindly. "Want to go to a party, hey? Well, I'll see what we can do for you in my part of the world.""Really you take one so unpleasantly by surprise," exclaimed poor Rosy, as she felt herself again setting forth on an airy journey. "It is so cold here, I wish you had let me stop for my seal-skin jacket.""Don't talk about seal-skins, child. We are going where you will see enough of them. Ho! but it'sgrand there, up among the icebergs and the everlasting snow-drifts, where the frozen lakes gleam like red jewels in the light of the sun that never sets! Merry sports you'll see between my brothers and sisters!""But I should be dreadfully afraid of them," began Rosy, trembling. "I have never met any bears outside of cages;" but the words were frozen on her tongue, and some tears coming into her eyes rolled in little round icicles into her lap.Now they came to a world of ice and snow. Even the fir-trees were no longer seen. Clinging to the rocks was a little rough moss, which served for reindeers' food. All else was chill and glittering—the sky arched with radiant pink that seemed to palpitate. Far below them was a polar sea, locking in chill embrace a lonely ship, her shrouds sheathed in ice, her ribs cracked against the huge silvery bulk of an iceberg, on whose jagged side she leaned despairingly—no sign of life on board. Rosy shuddered and shut her eyes, only opening them again when the bear-skin set her down at the side of an odd little hut, built on a barren point of land above the ice-bound water.This hut was made of blocks of ice, the chinks filledin with moss, and snow-caked over all. On top was a hole whence issued a faint curl of smoke, and out of an opening, somewhere, crawled a funny Esquimaux lady, apparently as broad as she was long. She welcomed Rosy politely, and took her in to the fire, a civility Rosy thought she could have done without. The whole family was collected there, with some guests invited in Rosy's honor, who had come in sledges drawn by dogs over the snow. The dogs also were within, and half a dozen children. It made Rosy think of the worms in Clover's can the days when her brother went a-fishing, so closely packed and squirming were her new-found friends. The place was full of smoke, and smelled of fish oil. The feast consisted of frozen whale's blubber, handed around to be gnawed by the company, and of salt fish dried without cooking, with strips of reindeer meat. Rosy tried to be very agreeable to everybody present, but when they brought her the baby to kiss, she almost fainted! It was the greasiest little thing, without a stitch of clothes on! By-and-by, sleep overpowered the traveller, and Mrs. Esquimaux laid a skin before the fire, offering her, for a pillow, whatdoyou think? that self-same greasy baby!As this ceremony is an especial compliment to a stranger among the Esquimaux, no one can refuse it; and Rosy, with much compunction, laid her head down on the poor little thing, who took it all as cheerfully as possible.Scarcely had the weary traveller closed her eyes, when she opened them again on the lounge in the drawing-room at home!There, looking down on her with a friendly smile, was the little Breton maiden in the chestnut wood."Come to my party," Rosy heard her whisper; and, charmed with such a pretty new playmate, she stretched out her hands. The little French girl dropped the goose from under her arm, and leaned out of her gold frame to help Rosy, who, in two or three steps was safely beside her, treading down the tall heather, and stirring the butterflies from their haunts among the flowers. How green, and cool, and sweet it was, under the arching boughs. Far as the eye could reach, on every side, were leaves rustling in the fragrant air; and the trunks of the ancient trees were gray and hoar as the beards of the old Druids who once haunted them. Annette, for so the peasant maid was called, told Rosy many strange and interesting tales about this forest asthey walked on, followed by the faithful dog dragging his cart of vegetables so carefully that he did not need a word or look to guide him."Ours is one of the oldest inhabited parts of France," said the girl, proudly; "I can tell you stories about every tree and rock and hill in the country-side, and I will, if you like to hear them; but we must make haste to reach the market now, before the sun rises high enough to drink the dew from my vegetables. I was up before day to pick them, and my father has promised me that, if I sell all, I shall have a party in the glen. Only think! Not to work in the field all the afternoon—and to have as many chestnuts as we choose, a whole loaf of brown bread, and perhaps—if the step-mother is good humored—a slice of seed-cake!"Rosy thought this a very poor sort of a party; but she found Annette such good company that it seemed no hardship to trudge along the hot and dusty road beside her, when they emerged from the shelter of the wood. The two girls laughed and made merry until they reached the market town, and there the good dog came to a halt, while Annette arranged her cress and lettuces and beans and potatoes in tempting rows upon the stall—standing beside them with such apatient smiling face, that many passers-by were induced to buy of her. The fat goose went home in the basket of a fat housekeeper, and left in his place a pile of silver pieces. So, Annette and Rosy soon turned back to trudge again the dusty high-road, talking of the party they were to have in the glen that afternoon.Annette's home, which the two tired little travellers reached at last, was a quaint cottage, the steep moss-grown roof looking twice the height of its walls. Over the door grew a twisted pear-tree, and all the ground around it, excepting the garden patch in a sheltered spot behind, was one waving mass of heather, strewn with gray boulders of mossy rock. Rosy gave a little cry of delight."Why, it is thesweetestplace," she cried. "It is like a bird's nest, Annette. How happy you must be here."Annette was about to answer, when out of the door came a cross step-mother, who began scolding as soon as she saw the girls, snatched the pouch of silver money from Annette's side, ordered her to the right and left, and then, tired as the poor child was, harnessed her to the cart beside the dog, and made her draw a heavypile of linen to the brook, where she was at once set to work to help her step-mother in the family washing. Rosy, half-starved by her long fast, was glad to share Annette's meagre dinner of brown bread and a handful of boiled chestnuts, eaten under a tree by the brookside. Annette ventured to remind her step-mother of the promised party, and, for answer, received a smart box on the ear."Is it a princess I have got to do my work, perchance?" said the cross old thing. "Thy father is far enough off in the field, not here to spoil thee, by luck; so do thou and that idle girl yonder set to work and finish washing the linen. That's party enough for trapesing girls, inmymind!"So Rosy, too, was forced into service, and all through the long afternoon she toiled with aching limbs. When night came, she and Annette were glad to seek a straw bed in a tiny roof-chamber and cry themselves to sleep."Never mind," said Annette, patiently; "to-morrow, perhaps, she may be kinder, and after we have worked all the forenoon in the field, who knows but we may have our party yet?"Rosy remembered nothing more, except openingher eyes full upon the hearth in her mother's drawing-room, where she was immediately addressed by one of the old-fashioned brass andirons."I should just like to show you what a party was inmytime," it said, in a cracked, high-pitched voice. "We, sister Peggy and I, belonged, as you know, to your mother's grandmother—a good old Revolutionary stock—and we lived in the old house up yonder in Salem, Massachusetts, until your mother took it into her fanciful head to fetch us here. I should like to know what we have in common with that little fiddle-faddle Dresden china clock and shepherdesses upon the mantel-piece! However, I won't talk about my grievances, for sister Peggy always says that it is in very bad taste, and sister Peggy knows. We lived in the room where your grandmother was born, my dear, and her first cap was fitted upon sister Peggy's knob——""Will she never stop to take breath," Rosy wondered. "I am dying to ask her a question. What's your name?" she suddenly called out, so abruptly as to make the old andiron jump, and let fall a broken brand upon the hearth."Dear me, child, how you fluttered me!" it said, reprovingly. "I am sister Polly, of course, as youwould have heard in due time. Sister Peggy always says that little girls should be seen and not heard, and sister Peggy knows—Where was I—Oh! when your grandmother grew old enough to invite her little friends to share her hospitality, the boys and girls would arrive at about three o'clock in the afternoon. The girls wore plain print gowns, and muslin aprons edged with tambour work. Instead of that insane mop of hair you sport, with a bow in the middle, looking for the world and all like your terrier, Fluff, they had decent mob caps. Their hands were covered with mittens, and each one earned a bag with a piece of white seam (or plain stitching), or else a sampler frame. How pretty it was to see them sitting down to their work for awhile! Then the tea-table was spread, with flowered china cups and plates, and shining silver, muffins, crumpets, sliced ham, home-made preserves and cream, and waffles strewn with cinnamon and sugar——""You make my mouth water," said Rosy."All this took place by five o'clock," said sister Polly, "and afterward the children had a good game of 'blind-man's-buff,' or 'hunt-the-slipper'—and a handful of nuts with a big red apple, to stuff in eachof their pockets upon going home. I remember a very little party your mamma had once, when she was a child——""Do you? Tell me about it, please," said Rosy, eagerly, for nothing was ever so enchanting to those children as stories about their mamma in her youth."She was just getting over the measles, and had been very much petted during her convalescence. Your grandmother promised her, in reward for taking a rather nasty dose of medicine, that she should have her little cousins from next door, to drink tea on a trunk. This was an especial treat to your mamma. A large flat-topped trunk served as table for the little girls and their dollies. On it were spread the china doll tea-things, and when they did not suffice in size or numbers, leaves from the grape-vine above the dining-room porch, were also heaped with goodies. Those children were satisfied with broken bits of peppermint stick, ginger-nuts, wee biscuit, lemonade for tea, and in the centre of the table a dish of horse-cakes.""Oh, I know!" said Rosy, with much interest. "Mamma has often told us about horse-cakes, and the funny little old shop where she used to buy them for a cent apiece. They had currants for eyes, and thechildren never knew whether to begin to eat at the head first or the tail——""Exactly," said sister Polly. "Well, as I was saying, four little girls in clean white birds'-eye pinafores assembled around the trunk-party, your mamma at the head, to pour out the lemonade tea. Each guest had a dolly in her lap, and your mamma had twins on hers. I think the difficulty began by her insisting that the twins should have a double share of all the good things, which the guests, with some warmth, disputed. At any rate, it is a sad tale to tell you, but a true one; a quarrel set in, and what should the hostess do, but burst into tears, declare that her company were mean horrid things, and then, dragging at the table-cloth, whisk the entire contents of the tea-table upon the floor!""Oh!" said Rosy, "did my mamma do that? I don't believe a word of it! You are nothing but an old tattle-tale, sister Polly, and I don't believe sister Peggy is any better!"Scarcely had Rosy uttered these disrespectful words, when the enraged sister Polly and sister Peggy flew out upon her from the fireplace. Seizing her in their brassy claws, they shook the little girl fiercely, bumpingher head first on one side, then on the other, between their knobs.Rosy screamed for help, and heard in return a merry peal of laughter. She felt a warm shower of kisses on her face; and, opening her eyes, saw Clover and Violet, Jonquil and the baby, mamma and the nurses, standing in a laughing circle around her couch, while Fluff nearly barked his head off in the general excitement."Rosy, you had the funniest nightmare!" said Violet; "see here, what a lovely bracelet was in the bran-pie for you, and we've all saved you some of our bonbons.""It was rather a bully Punch and Judy," remarked Clover, patronizingly. "That is, for the little ones, you know;I'veseen such lots of 'em.""Punch said, 'Doody, Doody, bing up de baby,'" squeaked happy little Jonquil, capering about.Baby Honeysuckle had gone to sleep, after her first party.Rosy jumped up, and kissed everybody around twice."Dear knows I've had enough of parties," she declared joyfully; but nobody knew what she meant!BLONDINA;OR,THE TURKEY-QUEEN.AACERTAINking had two daughters, one of them lovely and accomplished, and the other an ugly, cross-tempered personage, who early in life took to meddling with the black arts, and learned a great deal more of magic than she did of any thing else. Blondina, on the contrary—for so the pretty princess was named—was the joy of all her nurses, and governesses, and tutors, and music masters, from earliest infancy. Her one fault was a tendency to laugh aloud on the slightest provocation. At ten years old she could speak many languages, play on all known instruments, write essays and sermons, dance like a sylph, sing like a nightingale, and make chocolate caramel. Vixetta, the elder of the two sisters, before she had reached the same age, had made short work ofherinstructors, wearing out the health and spirits of agoverness in a week, and driving twenty-four tutors into the lunatic asylum, while her head-nurse was speedily reduced to skin and bone, and took a permanent situation as the living skeleton in a dime-museum.VixettaVixettaThe poor king remonstrated in vain with his headstrong elder daughter. Ordinary scolding had not the slightest effect upon her; black marks and crosses against her name in the report-book only made her laugh scornfully; and any attempt at bodily punishment ended in the Princess Vixetta throwing herself flat upon the ground, turning purple in the face, and foaming at the mouth with rage in a way to daunt the stoutest spirit. So, for this reason, the unfortunate girl was allowed to follow her own fancies, stealing off at dusk nobody knew whither, although itwas suspected that her favorite haunts were the black depths of a pine forest near the palace—where the country folk never cared to ramble, even in broad daylight—or a certain ruined tower, filled with bats and owls and serpents. One night a peasant, who approached this tower in search of a lost cow, saw green lights dancing madly around the broken walls, heard wild shrieks of laughter issue from within, and, on venturing to insert his inquisitive nose into a chink, had it tweaked by two red-hot fingers; immediately afterward, he averred, he had seen the Princess Vixetta, in true witch-dress, shoot by him on a broom-stick, leaving a trail of brimstone in her wake. On reaching home he found his sheep dead, his best cows gone dry, and his children ill of a fever. Such tales as these, of which there were many current in the country-side, came from time to time to the king's ears, and not being able to gainsay them,because of information he had got on his own private account, the unfortunate parent resigned himself to sink slowly to the tomb. In fact he courted death rather than shunned it. Whenever he took cold, he would sit all night long, in wet shoes, in the draft of two open windows; and if that did not make him worse, would send away the doctors, refuse medicine,and try to beat his brains out on the marble floor of the palace bedroom. At last, one day, he choked, on too large a mouthful of beefsteak, and when the physicians endeavored to relieve him, waved them away, and cheerfully expired!Blondina.Blondina.The Princess Blondina was immediately proclaimed queen in her father's stead. Nothing was heard but praises of the charming new sovereign, who, after theperiod of mourning had passed away, ascended the throne with much pomp and ceremony. All of this was gall and worm-wood to the envious Vixetta, who, but for the kindness of her sister, would have been sent, by a vote of all the people, into exile in a distant land. Blondina announced that the Princess Vixetta should remain in her palace, and be offered an opportunity to reform her bad ways. Vixetta, thereupon, pretending to weep, promised to do better, and to give up associating with her evil favorites, the witches, warlocks, and magicians; but, in secret, her time was spent in conjuring a method to get rid of her beautiful sister, and to mount the throne in her stead.One warm summer day, Queen Blondina had just come in from rowing in her silver barge along the windings of the little river which watered the palace grounds. She rested for a while in the garden upon a bank of roses, myrtles, jasmine, and lilies-of-the-valley, while allowing her maids-of-honor to fan her with huge fans of white ostrich plumes, and listening to the drip of fountains of orange-flower water, and eau-de-cologne. Suddenly, she espied a poor old tattered crone, carrying a basket of luscious fruit, such as none of the queen's own gardens or green-houses could produce.Pomegranates there were, dropping sweetest juices when cleft in twain, purple figs that melted upon the tongue, rosy nectarines, crimson plums frosted with silvery dew, and bunches of grapes glowing like jewels where the sunbeams touched their clusters. Queen Blondina sat up, and exclaimed with delight, "Oh! Goody, pray set your basket down. My servants will pay you handsomely for your lovely fruit.""Willingly, your Majesty," said the old woman. "You are welcome to the contents of my basket, if you will but leave me the single hazel-nut at the very bottom of it."Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.The queen consented, with a laugh at the absurdity of her wanting that one insignificant little hazel-nut, when such a delightful treat was at her service. Her servants unpacked the basket, and there, sure enough, at the bottom, was a tiny brown nut."Queer, that she should desire to keep back that one little nut," thought the queen. "I wonder why? Can it be so very delicious to the taste, or what? I wish I could see its inside."And so she went on, wondering, and exciting her own imagination, till, pretty soon, Blondina would have given all the rest of the basketful for the possessionof that single mysterious nut! She began by offering one gold piece, then another, till a glittering pile lay at the crone's feet, but still the old woman held out against parting with her treasure.At last, Blondina burst into tears, when the crone appeared to be melted by her sorrow, and, advancing, whispered in her ear."If I give you this nut," she said, "it shall be on one condition, only, your Majesty; and that is, that you crack it in the presence of your prime minister alone, in some remote corner of your palace."Blondina gladly consented, and sending away her attendants, took possession of the nut, and summoned her prime minister to her side. This functionary was a very stern and important officer of State, who had been foremost in the movement to banish the Princess Vixetta from the court. He arrived all breathless, at the queen's behest, and in the meantime the old crone had disappeared as mysteriously as she came. Blondina ordered the prime minister to follow her to a secluded summer-house, where, eagerly cracking the nut with her royal high-heeled shoe, she found inside only a few pinches of white powder, and a scroll containing some fine writing in an unknown tongue."Thanks to my love of study, your Majesty," modestly suggested the prime minister, "I have mastered the only language you have left unacquired, which happens to be Arabic. On this bit of paper, I can decipher certain instructions to the finder.""Tell me them, quickly, my dear lord," said the enchanted princess, "and I will apply myself to the study of Arabic to-morrow. So much for a neglected education," she added, with a sigh that she had left anything so important undone; for, as I have said before, this princess had a passion for acquiring languages."If the finder of this treasure desires to acquaint himself with the language of the animal world, and to take the form of any other living thing, he has only to snuff up a pinch of the enclosed powder, bow to the earth three times, and cry the name of the creature he desires to become, followed by these exact words:—

THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.

THE WILD WOODSMAN DISGUISED AS A TRAVELLER.

ONCEthere lived a peasant whose only daughter, Martha, had eyes as blue as corn-flowers and long hair like the silk around an ear of corn. All the lads of the village were after her, but she cared only for John, a young huntsman, who was called by her father an idle vagabond, and sent away from his cottage in disdain. Now, the village where they lived was at the foot of a high mountain covered with a dense forest, into certain portions of which few were found to venture, so wild and lonely they were. One day Martha went, unknown to her father and mother, to ramble in the forest. She said to some of her friends that she meant to gather flowers and pick berries, to sell to a rich lady who lived near them; but the truthwas, that a week had passed without John having set foot in the village, and she was anxious and uneasy, and wished to visit some of her lover's favorite haunts, to see if he might be there. It was no uncommon thing for John to be absent for several days, while trapping and hunting. He could sleep as well on a bank of moss as on his pallet at home, and he loved to go to rest under the broad canopy of the sky, studded with bright stars, and to be lulled by the music of falling waters.

Martha, dressed in her brown cotton frock, with the scarlet handkerchief knotted over her fair hair, was seen to go up a rocky pathway on the mountain-side, where the firs and larches made a bower overhead; but that night she did not come home, and next day, when John came into the village with a splendid string of birds he had shot miles away from there, in an opposite direction to the one Martha had taken, it was to hear the sad news of the poor girl's disappearance.

John's face grew pale and his stout heart grew faint; he thought of what all the others were thinking of—the Wild Woodsman, against whose magic his gun and staff might avail nothing!

The mountain above was believed to be the haunt of a mysterious being, half man, half brute, fierce and cruel, from whose den no living creature might ever be rescued. The Wild Woodsman, for so the natives called him, took many a shape to trap unwary travellers, and a fair young girl like Martha would be a rich prize for him. John had long vowed to capture the Wild Woodsman; and now he was filled with a mad thirst to seek him at once. Without stopping to hear more, the young man rushed off up the steep mountain path, bounding like a chamois from rock to rock, as the villagers, awe-struck and tearful, gazed after him and crossed themselves in superstitious fear.

Through brake and brier, John darted on; he was soon in the dark recesses of the forest, where the undergrowth was like a jungle. His fleet foot never tired in the chase, and, erelong, he spied a little red handkerchief upon the ground. Recognizing this to be Martha's, he gazed about him, and saw, by the token of broken bushes, that the girl had been dragged away from that spot up a rocky wall, which it seemed to him no foot could scale.

Struggling to keep down his sickening dread, John determined to follow. He began to climb the steeprock. His faithful dog, who had kept close beside him, suddenly gave a low fierce growl, and the hair on its back bristled up in fury. John was already half-way up the cliff, when, on looking down, there, just wherehe had picked up the handkerchief, he saw a queer little old fellow, making shoes as quietly as if nothing at all had happened.

"Hallo, there!" roared John, for he suspected mischief.

The old man looked up, and John saw that he had a young and rosy face with hair as gray as a badger's. The odd creature made signs that he was stone deaf, and beckoned John to come down. All this time, the dog was growling fearfully, and John took warning from the sign. He levelled his gun without more ado, and said:

"Answer, you fellow. Who are you that have cheeks so fair, and an old man's locks?"

"I?" said the old man, hopping up with a dreadful grin, "you will know me soon enough, sirrah, for I am the devil's grandfather."

He stretched out an arm that grew longer every minute, and his hands changed to the claws of a beast. John lost no time, but taking aim fired at the Wild Woodsman, for he it was, and none other. Bang! The friendly bullet made straight for the creature's heart, and though it did not kill him outright, the Wild Woodsman was sorely wounded. He fell over a log, groaning pitifully, and prayed John to come to the aid of a poor old man. John said, "That I will with another bullet," when the Wild Woodsman darted from the spot, and was lost in the thicket.

After him went the dog, after the dog went John. Such a hunt there never was! Through spots in the woods where man's foot had never penetrated, into bogs, and into serpents' lairs, past the caves where bears were lurking; but no animal would touch John, for the Wild Woodsman was their deadly enemy.

At last they came to a cleft in a little green hillock. Here was a hut covered with moss, and the Wild Woodsman,uttering a frantic yell, fell dead upon the threshold. John heard a shriek within the hut, and, dashing down the door, saw Martha, lying, bound with ropes made of plaited willow, in a corner.

He flew to set her free; but, to his surprise, Martha did not appear to know him. She let him take her by the hand and lead her from the fearful spot where the inner walls were built of the bones of the Wild Woodsman's victims. She looked up into his face and smiled, and John saw she had lost her reason. He did not stop to pick up the jewels and gold, stolen from murdered travellers, with which the hut was strewn, but made all speed to leave behind the horrid place. He lifted Martha in his strong arms and carried her down a path along the far side of the mountain. A great storm arose, and the earth trembled under his feet; but he kept bravely on his way, and looking back saw the cleft in the hills widen; then a great gulf opened, fire and smoke burst forth, and the hut of the Wild Woodsman was swallowed forever from sight.

John gave a shout of joy, and began singing a hymn in his clear young voice. The storm ceased. The clouds parted. Down in the valley below was their own peaceful village, and the sound of the evening bellscame floating up to him. Martha, who had lain in his arms as if asleep, stirred, and recognized him. Her strength returned, and she asked to walk beside him. Strangely enough, she said nothing of her late adventure, then or ever afterward. Not a trace of it remained in her memory.

When they reached the village, all the people came out to meet them, rejoicing. John told them he had rescued the lost girl, but the true history of his chase of the Wild Woodsman he kept to himself. Martha's father and mother greeted her with tears of thankfulness; and before another year had gone by John and Martha were married in the village church. From that day forth, peace reigned upon the mountain-side; but when stories of the Wild Woodsman were told to Martha's grandchildren, they little knew the share their hale old grandsire had in ridding the country-side of such a scourge.

ONCEupon a time, there were a poor couple who lived in a little cottage overgrown with vines. From roof-tree to cellar, their home was as clean as hands could make it, and the table and chairs were scoured every day till they were as white as snow. The man went out into the woods to tie up fagots, and the woman kept a few bees, and sold the honey. In this way they managed to live, and were happy, till a great storm came, and swept off the roof of their house; then the lightning set it on fire, and it was soon burned to the ground. The man came running from the forest, and found his wife crying as if her heart would break, beside her bee-hives, which the wind had upset, scattering all their busy inmates, and destroying the honey.

"Where shall we sleep to-night?" said the wife.

"Let us search till we find," answered the husband. So they set off and wandered into the woods, while the storm raged over them. Long did they stray, until night came. At last they saw a ruined hut, left by some charcoal-burners, and thankfully entered it. There was dry straw in one corner, and here the poor woman laid down, half dead with fright and fatigue. Both of them were hungry, and the man putting his hand in his pouch was glad to find there a bit of bread, which he was about to give to his wife, when a queer little black object sprang down the wall and seized the crust, running nimbly off with it.

"Who are you?" cried the poor man.

"I'm a lost hearth-fairy," said the little creature, in a piping voice. "If you had made me a fire to warm my poor bones, I should not have taken your food."

The hearth-fairy's teeth were chattering, and the man pulled together some sticks and straw, and lighted them with his flint and steel. The smoke curled up, the flames sparkled merrily. The hearth-fairy slid down and warmed himself.

"Hallo there! give me back my crust," said the poor man, whose wife kept pulling him by the sleeve, to remind him of her hunger.

"Now that I think of it, I want this crust myself," said the hearth-fairy. "I am off on a journey to seek a warm fireside, and I need something to strengthen me.But here is a duck instead, only you had better not kill her!"

A fine fat duck tumbled at the poor man's feet. The hearth-fairy vanished in the smoke. Oh! how the poor couple longed to kill and eat that duck. Their mouths watered as they thought of onion-sauce, and of breadcrumbs, and of sage. Faint and starving, they fell asleep in a corner of the hut. When day broke the poor man rose up, and went to the door. The storm had ceased and the duck was quacking on the door-sill. She waddled away, and left behind her a large egg of purest gold. Just then the lord of the forest rode by with his huntsman.They saw the shining prize in the poor man's hand, and offered to buy it of him.

"I will give it for a loaf of brown bread and a sausage," he said, "for my wife lies starving, within."

The huntsman gave him food and drink; and the lord of the forest, after hearing his story, had the poor couple taken to a nice empty cottage near by, and told them they should have it for their own. The golden egg was sold, and the man and his wife lived in comfort all their days from the money it fetched. They never saw either the hearth-fairy or the magic duck again, but the good wife soon went to bee-keeping, which made her very happy.

OH!dear, oh! dear," sighed Rosy, "I'm the most unhappy little girl in all the world."

She was kneeling in a chair, gazing through the drawing-room window. In the street outside was drawn up a carriage, into which Nurse was packing all of Rosy's brothers and sisters. Clover was there, a boy of twelve, looking rather disgusted with his surroundings, and having his head nearly cut off by his first upright collar. Violet, Rosy's twin sister, was there, dressed in the sweetest new pale blue camel's-hair, and taking great care to turn the skirt of it up over her shoulders as she nestled into her corner of the landau. (Rosy thought with a pang of her own new dress, the double of Violet's, hanging upstairs in the wardrobe, in a melancholy way!) Jonquil was there, the chubby, golden-haired, big-eyedbrother, aged three. And last of all was dear wee Honeysuckle, like a bundle of lace and flannel in Marie's arms; while old Nurse's spectacles could hardly be seen through the mass of sash-ends and fluted petticoats, and scarlet stockings, and velvet breeches, and flying locks of hair completely filling the roomy carriage. No one could doubt that the children were going to a party, even if they had not announced that fact to everybody within ear-shot by the chatter of their busy little tongues!

At last all were settled, and the carriage rolled away. "Good-by, Rosy," "Good-by, Rosy!" came up in a shrill chorus; and, the last Rosy's tear-dimmed eyes could see of them, hands and handkerchiefs were waving a farewell to the sister left behind.

Then it was that Rosy's fortitude completely forsook her, and she dropped sobbing into the chair. It was a bitter disappointment, for the party was to be given by their aunt in honor of these children, and, in addition to Punch and Judy, magic, and a candy-bag, they were promised a huge bran-pie, full of delightful hidden presents. Rosy had suffered from a pretty bad sore-throat the night before, and the doctor had forbidden her going out. It is no use for grownpeople to say, dear children, these disappointments of yours don't matter much, for theydo. They seem as high as mountains in your path, and I fully sympathize with you all, and especially with little weeping Rosy.

So thought her mamma, evidently, for she came into the room just then, and picked the little bunch of blue serge and cardinal ribbons up in her arms, and sat down with it in a low chair by the fire.

"Boo-hoo!" said Rosy, breaking out afresh when she felt mamma's kisses on her hair and wet cheeks. Mamma said very little, but by and by the little girl began to feel comforted, in spite of herself. You know how it is, dears! First, you stop roaring and moan, then your eyes are kissed dry, then you burrow your heads down and sigh, then you lie quite still for a little while—and at last, after blowing your noses in an heroic way, you are ready to laugh again!

All this happened in Rosy's case, and for awhile she sat talking, until her mamma was called away to attend to some household matter. By that time Rosywas quite content to be tucked into a corner of the comfortable sofa, covered with a down quilt, and left to gaze into the depths of a woodfire, burning gently (for it had passed the spitting, spluttering stage), upon two great old-fashioned brass andirons with claw-feet and queer round bald heads.

Around Rosy's couch was drawn a gay Japanese screen; before the fire was spread a great black bear-skin rug, and on either side of it stood a tall green porcelain jar. Clover always said these vases were like the ones in which Morgiana hid the Forty Thieves, and the children had more than once stuffed baby Honeysuckle into one of them to keep her out of mischief during what Nurse called their "rampagin's to split one's head."

Over her mamma's writing-table, low enough for Rosy to look into the very heart of it, hung a picture in a broad gold frame. The picture was of a chestnut wood in Brittany, and standing in the shadow of a drooping bough was a little girl of about ten, her own age. One of the little peasant maiden's arms was clasped around the neck of a big dog, harnessed to a cart of vegetables. Under the other arm she held a fat goose with a dangling neck. Overhead, the skywas blue and the leaves seemed to be rustling in a summer wind. Around the feet of the tiny nut-brown maiden, with her odd high cap, grew tall heather and feathery ferns, with here and there a clump of flame-shaped lilies. When snow was on the ground outside Rosy always loved to gaze at this pretty scene, and to fancy herself stepping over the frame to have a chat about vegetables, and a ramble in the forest with Annette.

Rosy's eyes wandered from one object to another in this pleasant room. Fluff, her mother's Skye terrier, curled up on her feet and fell asleep. The clock upon the mantel ticked softly, Fluff snored contentedly, little particles of burning wood pattered into the bed of glowing embers below. Even the familiar rumble of the street cars along the thoroughfare at the end of their block seemed more subdued than usual; and Rosy lay, never stirring, until—she found herself, without the least warning, slipping down through one of her mother's great porcelain jars, into Japan! Fluff woke up, and dashed to the rescue, with his fierce little "Rah!" of a bark; but there was nothing to be seen of Miss Rosy except the tip of a scarlet bow, with which Nurse was wont to adorn the summit of heryoung lady's head. She felt the rustle of the dried rose-leaves at the bottom of the jar falling over her in a fragrant shower, as she fell through space, pulling up, decidedly out of breath, in a very queer locality.

It was a town where the houses looked as if they had been built for big dolls to live in. Houses with sliding walls, doors, and galleries made all of paper, that in two minutes you could take apart and pack up as youdo a box of Crandall's blocks. The streets were honeycombed with quaint booths, and crowded with human beings going in and out of them like bees. The carriages were babies' perambulators, drawn by a tandem team of brown-skinned men, wearing a single garment each, and umbrella hats.

There were no horses to be seen, but the cows wore blue cotton wrappers and shoes made of straw. Men, women, and children, at first sight, seemed to be dressed alike, all clattering around on high clogs, stooping painfully; and the funny little bald-headed babies were either carried pick-a-back by their mammas, or else were tucked in the breast of their fathers' loose wrappers, together with pipes, tobacco pouches, books, and a variety of other useful articles.

Rosy looked about her in astonishment, till a girl came up and saluted her with solemn politeness, inviting her to a party, which was just about to begin. "You had better have your hair dressed first," the girl said, "and I will lend you a decent frock."

"Very well," said Rosy, thinking fondly of the blue camel's-hair in the wardrobe at home; "of course, this old every-day serge won't do for a party."

The girl took her to the shop of a female barber,who made Rosy kneel down before a mirror of polished steel, and parted her hair in two or three long manes, which were stiffened with bandoline, and tied withpaper twine in a wonderful bow-knot on top. A fine tortoise-shell skewer was added, and the barberess, stepping back to survey her work, caught sight of Rosy's eyebrows.

"Tut, tut," she said, angrily; "what were her parents thinking of to let them grow like this?" And without more ado Rosy's eyebrows were shaved off, and her face and neck were daubed with a thick white paste. Her under lip had a patch of red paint, and her teeth were stained with some horrid black mixture. Then she went with the Japanese girl into a paper house, where the party was to be held, and the girl lent her a loose silk gown, tied round the waist bya wide sash of pink crêpe. On her feet were put foot mittens of white cloth, with a separate place for the big toe, and high lacquered clogs.

"How can I walk?" said Rosy, tottering around when she was finally equipped in her narrow uncomfortable garments.

"Sh-h! the company is arriving!" said her hostess; and as there was no furniture, not even a chair, Rosy wondered where the company would sit. The company solved this difficulty by sitting on the floor; and then trays were handed around, containing all sorts of wonderful sweetmeats, flowers and fruits in lovely colors, with conserved fruits, sugared beans, and candy fish, animals, and birds. Each dainty was more tempting than the one before, and Rosy found the loose front of her Japanese gown the very thing for a "party-pocket," if any of you know what that means!

Next came games; "Lady-go-to-see," "Sick man-and-doctor," Alphabet-cards, and Proverbs; and then, more sweetmeats. Pleasant as it was, a sudden stop was put to the entertainment, by a commotion, everybody seizing hold of another, all with frightened faces. Without warning, an earthquake came and turned the house upside down. Everybody fell out on theground but Rosy, who flew up in the air, becoming entangled in the tail of a huge man-kite, carried along by the wind at a fearful rate of speed.

Rosy thought this much more exciting than any coasting down hill she had ever tried; and she flew up, up, until the tail of the kite gave a flop, tossing her through a rift in the clouds. There she was, passing again through the bottom of the porcelain-jar, and in another moment she had landed in the very centre of the bear-skin hearth-rug.

Rosy was just getting her breath, and wondering how she came to have her hair hanging in the usual tawny stream, when, to her great surprise, the bear-skin began to move.

"Hold on tight there. We are off," it said, in a low growling tone, though not unkindly. "Want to go to a party, hey? Well, I'll see what we can do for you in my part of the world."

"Really you take one so unpleasantly by surprise," exclaimed poor Rosy, as she felt herself again setting forth on an airy journey. "It is so cold here, I wish you had let me stop for my seal-skin jacket."

"Don't talk about seal-skins, child. We are going where you will see enough of them. Ho! but it'sgrand there, up among the icebergs and the everlasting snow-drifts, where the frozen lakes gleam like red jewels in the light of the sun that never sets! Merry sports you'll see between my brothers and sisters!"

"But I should be dreadfully afraid of them," began Rosy, trembling. "I have never met any bears outside of cages;" but the words were frozen on her tongue, and some tears coming into her eyes rolled in little round icicles into her lap.

Now they came to a world of ice and snow. Even the fir-trees were no longer seen. Clinging to the rocks was a little rough moss, which served for reindeers' food. All else was chill and glittering—the sky arched with radiant pink that seemed to palpitate. Far below them was a polar sea, locking in chill embrace a lonely ship, her shrouds sheathed in ice, her ribs cracked against the huge silvery bulk of an iceberg, on whose jagged side she leaned despairingly—no sign of life on board. Rosy shuddered and shut her eyes, only opening them again when the bear-skin set her down at the side of an odd little hut, built on a barren point of land above the ice-bound water.

This hut was made of blocks of ice, the chinks filledin with moss, and snow-caked over all. On top was a hole whence issued a faint curl of smoke, and out of an opening, somewhere, crawled a funny Esquimaux lady, apparently as broad as she was long. She welcomed Rosy politely, and took her in to the fire, a civility Rosy thought she could have done without. The whole family was collected there, with some guests invited in Rosy's honor, who had come in sledges drawn by dogs over the snow. The dogs also were within, and half a dozen children. It made Rosy think of the worms in Clover's can the days when her brother went a-fishing, so closely packed and squirming were her new-found friends. The place was full of smoke, and smelled of fish oil. The feast consisted of frozen whale's blubber, handed around to be gnawed by the company, and of salt fish dried without cooking, with strips of reindeer meat. Rosy tried to be very agreeable to everybody present, but when they brought her the baby to kiss, she almost fainted! It was the greasiest little thing, without a stitch of clothes on! By-and-by, sleep overpowered the traveller, and Mrs. Esquimaux laid a skin before the fire, offering her, for a pillow, whatdoyou think? that self-same greasy baby!

As this ceremony is an especial compliment to a stranger among the Esquimaux, no one can refuse it; and Rosy, with much compunction, laid her head down on the poor little thing, who took it all as cheerfully as possible.

Scarcely had the weary traveller closed her eyes, when she opened them again on the lounge in the drawing-room at home!

There, looking down on her with a friendly smile, was the little Breton maiden in the chestnut wood.

"Come to my party," Rosy heard her whisper; and, charmed with such a pretty new playmate, she stretched out her hands. The little French girl dropped the goose from under her arm, and leaned out of her gold frame to help Rosy, who, in two or three steps was safely beside her, treading down the tall heather, and stirring the butterflies from their haunts among the flowers. How green, and cool, and sweet it was, under the arching boughs. Far as the eye could reach, on every side, were leaves rustling in the fragrant air; and the trunks of the ancient trees were gray and hoar as the beards of the old Druids who once haunted them. Annette, for so the peasant maid was called, told Rosy many strange and interesting tales about this forest asthey walked on, followed by the faithful dog dragging his cart of vegetables so carefully that he did not need a word or look to guide him.

"Ours is one of the oldest inhabited parts of France," said the girl, proudly; "I can tell you stories about every tree and rock and hill in the country-side, and I will, if you like to hear them; but we must make haste to reach the market now, before the sun rises high enough to drink the dew from my vegetables. I was up before day to pick them, and my father has promised me that, if I sell all, I shall have a party in the glen. Only think! Not to work in the field all the afternoon—and to have as many chestnuts as we choose, a whole loaf of brown bread, and perhaps—if the step-mother is good humored—a slice of seed-cake!"

Rosy thought this a very poor sort of a party; but she found Annette such good company that it seemed no hardship to trudge along the hot and dusty road beside her, when they emerged from the shelter of the wood. The two girls laughed and made merry until they reached the market town, and there the good dog came to a halt, while Annette arranged her cress and lettuces and beans and potatoes in tempting rows upon the stall—standing beside them with such apatient smiling face, that many passers-by were induced to buy of her. The fat goose went home in the basket of a fat housekeeper, and left in his place a pile of silver pieces. So, Annette and Rosy soon turned back to trudge again the dusty high-road, talking of the party they were to have in the glen that afternoon.

Annette's home, which the two tired little travellers reached at last, was a quaint cottage, the steep moss-grown roof looking twice the height of its walls. Over the door grew a twisted pear-tree, and all the ground around it, excepting the garden patch in a sheltered spot behind, was one waving mass of heather, strewn with gray boulders of mossy rock. Rosy gave a little cry of delight.

"Why, it is thesweetestplace," she cried. "It is like a bird's nest, Annette. How happy you must be here."

Annette was about to answer, when out of the door came a cross step-mother, who began scolding as soon as she saw the girls, snatched the pouch of silver money from Annette's side, ordered her to the right and left, and then, tired as the poor child was, harnessed her to the cart beside the dog, and made her draw a heavypile of linen to the brook, where she was at once set to work to help her step-mother in the family washing. Rosy, half-starved by her long fast, was glad to share Annette's meagre dinner of brown bread and a handful of boiled chestnuts, eaten under a tree by the brookside. Annette ventured to remind her step-mother of the promised party, and, for answer, received a smart box on the ear.

"Is it a princess I have got to do my work, perchance?" said the cross old thing. "Thy father is far enough off in the field, not here to spoil thee, by luck; so do thou and that idle girl yonder set to work and finish washing the linen. That's party enough for trapesing girls, inmymind!"

So Rosy, too, was forced into service, and all through the long afternoon she toiled with aching limbs. When night came, she and Annette were glad to seek a straw bed in a tiny roof-chamber and cry themselves to sleep.

"Never mind," said Annette, patiently; "to-morrow, perhaps, she may be kinder, and after we have worked all the forenoon in the field, who knows but we may have our party yet?"

Rosy remembered nothing more, except openingher eyes full upon the hearth in her mother's drawing-room, where she was immediately addressed by one of the old-fashioned brass andirons.

"I should just like to show you what a party was inmytime," it said, in a cracked, high-pitched voice. "We, sister Peggy and I, belonged, as you know, to your mother's grandmother—a good old Revolutionary stock—and we lived in the old house up yonder in Salem, Massachusetts, until your mother took it into her fanciful head to fetch us here. I should like to know what we have in common with that little fiddle-faddle Dresden china clock and shepherdesses upon the mantel-piece! However, I won't talk about my grievances, for sister Peggy always says that it is in very bad taste, and sister Peggy knows. We lived in the room where your grandmother was born, my dear, and her first cap was fitted upon sister Peggy's knob——"

"Will she never stop to take breath," Rosy wondered. "I am dying to ask her a question. What's your name?" she suddenly called out, so abruptly as to make the old andiron jump, and let fall a broken brand upon the hearth.

"Dear me, child, how you fluttered me!" it said, reprovingly. "I am sister Polly, of course, as youwould have heard in due time. Sister Peggy always says that little girls should be seen and not heard, and sister Peggy knows—Where was I—Oh! when your grandmother grew old enough to invite her little friends to share her hospitality, the boys and girls would arrive at about three o'clock in the afternoon. The girls wore plain print gowns, and muslin aprons edged with tambour work. Instead of that insane mop of hair you sport, with a bow in the middle, looking for the world and all like your terrier, Fluff, they had decent mob caps. Their hands were covered with mittens, and each one earned a bag with a piece of white seam (or plain stitching), or else a sampler frame. How pretty it was to see them sitting down to their work for awhile! Then the tea-table was spread, with flowered china cups and plates, and shining silver, muffins, crumpets, sliced ham, home-made preserves and cream, and waffles strewn with cinnamon and sugar——"

"You make my mouth water," said Rosy.

"All this took place by five o'clock," said sister Polly, "and afterward the children had a good game of 'blind-man's-buff,' or 'hunt-the-slipper'—and a handful of nuts with a big red apple, to stuff in eachof their pockets upon going home. I remember a very little party your mamma had once, when she was a child——"

"Do you? Tell me about it, please," said Rosy, eagerly, for nothing was ever so enchanting to those children as stories about their mamma in her youth.

"She was just getting over the measles, and had been very much petted during her convalescence. Your grandmother promised her, in reward for taking a rather nasty dose of medicine, that she should have her little cousins from next door, to drink tea on a trunk. This was an especial treat to your mamma. A large flat-topped trunk served as table for the little girls and their dollies. On it were spread the china doll tea-things, and when they did not suffice in size or numbers, leaves from the grape-vine above the dining-room porch, were also heaped with goodies. Those children were satisfied with broken bits of peppermint stick, ginger-nuts, wee biscuit, lemonade for tea, and in the centre of the table a dish of horse-cakes."

"Oh, I know!" said Rosy, with much interest. "Mamma has often told us about horse-cakes, and the funny little old shop where she used to buy them for a cent apiece. They had currants for eyes, and thechildren never knew whether to begin to eat at the head first or the tail——"

"Exactly," said sister Polly. "Well, as I was saying, four little girls in clean white birds'-eye pinafores assembled around the trunk-party, your mamma at the head, to pour out the lemonade tea. Each guest had a dolly in her lap, and your mamma had twins on hers. I think the difficulty began by her insisting that the twins should have a double share of all the good things, which the guests, with some warmth, disputed. At any rate, it is a sad tale to tell you, but a true one; a quarrel set in, and what should the hostess do, but burst into tears, declare that her company were mean horrid things, and then, dragging at the table-cloth, whisk the entire contents of the tea-table upon the floor!"

"Oh!" said Rosy, "did my mamma do that? I don't believe a word of it! You are nothing but an old tattle-tale, sister Polly, and I don't believe sister Peggy is any better!"

Scarcely had Rosy uttered these disrespectful words, when the enraged sister Polly and sister Peggy flew out upon her from the fireplace. Seizing her in their brassy claws, they shook the little girl fiercely, bumpingher head first on one side, then on the other, between their knobs.

Rosy screamed for help, and heard in return a merry peal of laughter. She felt a warm shower of kisses on her face; and, opening her eyes, saw Clover and Violet, Jonquil and the baby, mamma and the nurses, standing in a laughing circle around her couch, while Fluff nearly barked his head off in the general excitement.

"Rosy, you had the funniest nightmare!" said Violet; "see here, what a lovely bracelet was in the bran-pie for you, and we've all saved you some of our bonbons."

"It was rather a bully Punch and Judy," remarked Clover, patronizingly. "That is, for the little ones, you know;I'veseen such lots of 'em."

"Punch said, 'Doody, Doody, bing up de baby,'" squeaked happy little Jonquil, capering about.

Baby Honeysuckle had gone to sleep, after her first party.

Rosy jumped up, and kissed everybody around twice.

"Dear knows I've had enough of parties," she declared joyfully; but nobody knew what she meant!

ACERTAINking had two daughters, one of them lovely and accomplished, and the other an ugly, cross-tempered personage, who early in life took to meddling with the black arts, and learned a great deal more of magic than she did of any thing else. Blondina, on the contrary—for so the pretty princess was named—was the joy of all her nurses, and governesses, and tutors, and music masters, from earliest infancy. Her one fault was a tendency to laugh aloud on the slightest provocation. At ten years old she could speak many languages, play on all known instruments, write essays and sermons, dance like a sylph, sing like a nightingale, and make chocolate caramel. Vixetta, the elder of the two sisters, before she had reached the same age, had made short work ofherinstructors, wearing out the health and spirits of agoverness in a week, and driving twenty-four tutors into the lunatic asylum, while her head-nurse was speedily reduced to skin and bone, and took a permanent situation as the living skeleton in a dime-museum.Vixetta

Vixetta

The poor king remonstrated in vain with his headstrong elder daughter. Ordinary scolding had not the slightest effect upon her; black marks and crosses against her name in the report-book only made her laugh scornfully; and any attempt at bodily punishment ended in the Princess Vixetta throwing herself flat upon the ground, turning purple in the face, and foaming at the mouth with rage in a way to daunt the stoutest spirit. So, for this reason, the unfortunate girl was allowed to follow her own fancies, stealing off at dusk nobody knew whither, although itwas suspected that her favorite haunts were the black depths of a pine forest near the palace—where the country folk never cared to ramble, even in broad daylight—or a certain ruined tower, filled with bats and owls and serpents. One night a peasant, who approached this tower in search of a lost cow, saw green lights dancing madly around the broken walls, heard wild shrieks of laughter issue from within, and, on venturing to insert his inquisitive nose into a chink, had it tweaked by two red-hot fingers; immediately afterward, he averred, he had seen the Princess Vixetta, in true witch-dress, shoot by him on a broom-stick, leaving a trail of brimstone in her wake. On reaching home he found his sheep dead, his best cows gone dry, and his children ill of a fever. Such tales as these, of which there were many current in the country-side, came from time to time to the king's ears, and not being able to gainsay them,because of information he had got on his own private account, the unfortunate parent resigned himself to sink slowly to the tomb. In fact he courted death rather than shunned it. Whenever he took cold, he would sit all night long, in wet shoes, in the draft of two open windows; and if that did not make him worse, would send away the doctors, refuse medicine,and try to beat his brains out on the marble floor of the palace bedroom. At last, one day, he choked, on too large a mouthful of beefsteak, and when the physicians endeavored to relieve him, waved them away, and cheerfully expired!

Blondina.

The Princess Blondina was immediately proclaimed queen in her father's stead. Nothing was heard but praises of the charming new sovereign, who, after theperiod of mourning had passed away, ascended the throne with much pomp and ceremony. All of this was gall and worm-wood to the envious Vixetta, who, but for the kindness of her sister, would have been sent, by a vote of all the people, into exile in a distant land. Blondina announced that the Princess Vixetta should remain in her palace, and be offered an opportunity to reform her bad ways. Vixetta, thereupon, pretending to weep, promised to do better, and to give up associating with her evil favorites, the witches, warlocks, and magicians; but, in secret, her time was spent in conjuring a method to get rid of her beautiful sister, and to mount the throne in her stead.

One warm summer day, Queen Blondina had just come in from rowing in her silver barge along the windings of the little river which watered the palace grounds. She rested for a while in the garden upon a bank of roses, myrtles, jasmine, and lilies-of-the-valley, while allowing her maids-of-honor to fan her with huge fans of white ostrich plumes, and listening to the drip of fountains of orange-flower water, and eau-de-cologne. Suddenly, she espied a poor old tattered crone, carrying a basket of luscious fruit, such as none of the queen's own gardens or green-houses could produce.Pomegranates there were, dropping sweetest juices when cleft in twain, purple figs that melted upon the tongue, rosy nectarines, crimson plums frosted with silvery dew, and bunches of grapes glowing like jewels where the sunbeams touched their clusters. Queen Blondina sat up, and exclaimed with delight, "Oh! Goody, pray set your basket down. My servants will pay you handsomely for your lovely fruit."

"Willingly, your Majesty," said the old woman. "You are welcome to the contents of my basket, if you will but leave me the single hazel-nut at the very bottom of it."

Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.

Queen Blondina Resting in her Garden.

The queen consented, with a laugh at the absurdity of her wanting that one insignificant little hazel-nut, when such a delightful treat was at her service. Her servants unpacked the basket, and there, sure enough, at the bottom, was a tiny brown nut.

"Queer, that she should desire to keep back that one little nut," thought the queen. "I wonder why? Can it be so very delicious to the taste, or what? I wish I could see its inside."

And so she went on, wondering, and exciting her own imagination, till, pretty soon, Blondina would have given all the rest of the basketful for the possessionof that single mysterious nut! She began by offering one gold piece, then another, till a glittering pile lay at the crone's feet, but still the old woman held out against parting with her treasure.

At last, Blondina burst into tears, when the crone appeared to be melted by her sorrow, and, advancing, whispered in her ear.

"If I give you this nut," she said, "it shall be on one condition, only, your Majesty; and that is, that you crack it in the presence of your prime minister alone, in some remote corner of your palace."

Blondina gladly consented, and sending away her attendants, took possession of the nut, and summoned her prime minister to her side. This functionary was a very stern and important officer of State, who had been foremost in the movement to banish the Princess Vixetta from the court. He arrived all breathless, at the queen's behest, and in the meantime the old crone had disappeared as mysteriously as she came. Blondina ordered the prime minister to follow her to a secluded summer-house, where, eagerly cracking the nut with her royal high-heeled shoe, she found inside only a few pinches of white powder, and a scroll containing some fine writing in an unknown tongue.

"Thanks to my love of study, your Majesty," modestly suggested the prime minister, "I have mastered the only language you have left unacquired, which happens to be Arabic. On this bit of paper, I can decipher certain instructions to the finder."

"Tell me them, quickly, my dear lord," said the enchanted princess, "and I will apply myself to the study of Arabic to-morrow. So much for a neglected education," she added, with a sigh that she had left anything so important undone; for, as I have said before, this princess had a passion for acquiring languages.

"If the finder of this treasure desires to acquaint himself with the language of the animal world, and to take the form of any other living thing, he has only to snuff up a pinch of the enclosed powder, bow to the earth three times, and cry the name of the creature he desires to become, followed by these exact words:—

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