uproar at being obliged to wait even a minute for anything he wanted;
but of late he had learned, among other lessons, the lesson of patience;
so he neither stormed nor cried, but entering the palace seated himself
where he could see the great hall-clock and watch for midnight.
He was so weary, however, that he could not keep his eyes open, and
presently he was as sound asleep as a dormouse. At length the cat
touched him on the shoulder, her claws pricking him so that he sprang up
in a hurry.
"Wake up!" said the cat; "the clock will strike twelve in seven
minutes."
"Why, have I been asleep?" asked the Prince, rubbing his eyes.
"It looks like it," replied the cat. "Why did you leave the Court shut
up in the box?"
"To tell the truth," the Prince confessed, "I was afraid they might be
running about the floor in the dark and--something might eat them by
mistake."
"Well," the cat answered, with a look as near a blush as a cat can come
to such a thing, "you may be right. One never can tell what may happen.
It is now almost on the stroke of twelve, and we must make haste. Run
out to the terrace and see if the peahen has laid an egg. If she has,
bring it in here to me; and be very quick!"
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the Prince hastened to do as he was
bid. He found an egg, indeed, and rushing back to the palace reached the
hall just as the clock sounded the first stroke of twelve.
"Break it exactly across the middle, and do it with three blows," the
cat commanded.
The Prince obeyed, and from the shattered fragments of the shell, just
as the last stroke of twelve ceased, out stepped the Fairy Copetta, as
sharp, fresh, and brisk from top to toe as if she had just been made,
and not in the least as if she had found her quarters in the peahen's
egg either close or confining. She shook out her petticoat with a brisk
little flirt, hopped lightly down from the table, and hit the Prince a
tap on the head with her cane.
[Illustration]
"Well," she said sharply, "how about the Blue Wizard? Do you like him as
well as you thought you should?"
"I don't know," stammered the poor Prince, decidedly taken aback by his
godmother's sudden appearance. "Did I say I liked him? I had
forgotten--I mean I don't like him at all, if you please, Godmother."
"Oh!" exclaimed the old lady, mockingly, "don't you, really? Yet, if I
remember rightly, you quite longed for a visit from him a while ago.
Well, then, how about the giant of Bogarru and the Funny Man, both
intimate friends of mine--did you like them, eh? Did you find them witty
and agreeable? Did they treat you with great respect because you were a
real live prince, eh?"
"You know they did not," cried the Prince. "I must say, Godmother, that
you have strange taste in choosing friends."
"Each to his liking," responded Copetta, lightly. "I dare say, now, that
you found more pleasure in that stupid jelly-fish, or that dismal brass
monkey, or that crooked man,--and _he's_ a beauty, by the way!"
"I did like them," replied the Prince, stoutly; "they were so good to
me. Are they, too, friends of yours, Godmother?"
"Why, yes," said the fairy, her bright eyes twinkling elfishly, "I think
I may say that they're rather intimate with me."
"I didn't know," ventured Vance, rather timidly, "but they might all be
you, Godmother."
"Perhaps you think," she answered tartly, "that I am a sort of living
multiplication-table, or that I have as many lives as a cat. By the way,
can you bound the kingdom now?"
"I ought to be able to bound it," the Prince replied; "I have been quite
around it on foot."
"Well," returned his godmother, acidly, "I dare say it hasn't hurt you.
That reminds me; have you had enough of it?"
"Oh, please, Godmother," cried the Prince, "I have had enough of
everything but kindness; and oh, Godmother, if you only would tell me
how to turn my people back again, indeed, there is nothing I wouldn't
do. Believe me, dear Godmother, I'm a very different sort of boy from
the one who wouldn't learn the boundaries, and wanted to know the Blue
Wizard; I am, indeed."
"Humph!" sniffed the fairy, though secretly she was not ill pleased with
him, "you're a much dirtier one, at all events. Have you washed your
face since you've been gone?"
"I'm afraid I haven't washed it very often," confessed the humbled
Prince. "You see, I've had so much else on my mind, Godmother."
"Bah!" exclaimed the fairy. "Go take a bath!"
"But the Court, Godmother," pleaded the Prince, timidly; "they must be
very tired of being small."
"Tut, tut," cried the godmother, sharply, "how you do harp on one
string, to be sure! 'Tis very ill bred of you. However, as it's not for
yourself, I don't mind telling you that it's a very simple matter when
you once know how to do it. They were facing each other when they
shrank, were they not?"
"Yes," said the Prince, blushing.
"Turn them all back to back, then," said the fairy, snappishly. "I
should think any fool might have known enough to do that long ago."
Vance opened his box, and trembling with excitement arranged his
relatives and friends in two rows, back to back.
Pouf! The effect was magical! Quicker by far than they had grown small,
the little folk regained their former size. Then, indeed, confusion
reigned. Such gabbling and chattering and running about; such
hand-shakings, embracing, and congratulations; such beratings and
cuffings of Vance because he had made them small, and then such kissings
and caressings because he had made them large again! Never was there
known such a mighty confusion and uproar in any royal palace before or
since.
"But, Godmother," ventured Vance, timidly, when the excitement had died
away enough to allow a body to begin once more to think,--"But,
Godmother, if you please, may I ask you one question?"
"If it's a short one," replied the sharp old lady, "and not _too_
foolish."
"Well, then," asked Vance, "I would like very much to know, if you
please, what we should have done if the peahen had happened not to lay
an egg?"
"Pshaw!" said the godmother, crisply. "Stuff!"
[Illustration]
University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge.
End of Project Gutenberg's Prince Vance, by Eleanor Putnam and Arlo Bates