MUSCADEL

Of course, there was a grand party when Princess Pandora came of age.

The palace was hung with garlands of white roses, all the carpets were

taken up, and the floor of every room was covered close with green turf

with daisies in it, for in that country the cruel practice of rooting

daisies out of lawns with a spud was a crime.

The Queen-mother had died when Pandora was a little baby, so now the

Princess had to be hostess, and to receive all the guests, and speak to

each one a little, and see that everyone had enough to eat and the right

sort of person to talk to.

She did it all very nicely indeed, for she was a properly brought up

Princess and had been to a school for the daughters of monarchs only,

where, every Wednesday evening, she and her school-fellows were taught

'deportment, manners, and how to behave at Court.'

All the guests went away very pleased with her and with themselves,

which is how people ought always to feel after a party.

When they had all gone she went and curled up at the feet of her father,

who had sunk back on his throne exhausted by his hospitable exertions.

The two were quite alone, except for a particularly fine house-fly who

had settled on the back of the throne, just above the carved Royal arms.

Of course, neither the King nor the Princess noticed such a little thing

as a fly.

'Well, daddy dear,' said the Princess, 'did it go off all right? Did I

behave prettily?'

'Ah!' said the King, 'you're a born Princess, my pet. Pretty face,

pretty manners, good heart, good head. You're your dear mother over

again. And that reminds me----'

'Yes?' said the Princess.

'When your mother died,' said the King--and he sighed, though it was

twenty-one years to a day since he had lost his Queen-love--'I promised

her to lock up her apartments, and only to give the keys of them to you

when you should be twenty-one. And now you _are_, so here are the keys,

my precious. You've always wanted to explore the rooms in the south

wing. Well, now you can.'

'How lovely!' cried the Princess, jumping up; 'won't you come too,

daddy?'

'I'd rather not, dear,' said the King, so sadly that Pandora at once

said:

'Well, then, _I_ won't either. I'll stay with you.'

But the King said 'No,' and she had better take a housemaid or two with

brooms and dusters. 'The dust grows thick in twenty-one years,' said

he.

But the Princess didn't want any of the palace housemaids to help her to

explore her mother's rooms. She went alone, holding up her

cloth-of-silver train because of the dust.

And the rooms that she unlocked with the six gold keys with pearls in

their handles were very dusty indeed. The windows were yellow with dust,

so the Princess threw them all open. And then, even through the dust,

she could see how beautiful the rooms were--far more beautiful even than

her own--and everyone had always said that hers were the most beautiful

rooms in the seven kingdoms. She dusted the tops of a few of the tables

and cabinets with her lace handkerchief, so that she could just see how

everything was inlaid with ivory and jade and ebony and precious stones.

Six of the keys--the pearly ones--opened six beautiful rooms, but the

seventh had rubies in its handle, and it was a little, little key, not

at all like a door-key; so Pandora looked about for a little keyhole

that the key would fit, and at last she found a cabinet of ebony inlaid

with gold and red tortoiseshell, and the little seventh key just fitted

through the opening of the gold lock-plate and into the keyhole. Pandora

turned the key and opened the cabinet. Inside the cabinet were seven

little drawers with gold handles set with rubies, like the key.

Pandora pulled the drawers out one after the other. She was alone,

except for the house-fly, who had followed her and now sat on the top of

the cabinet door, watching her with all his hundreds of eyes. But no one

notices a fly.

Five of the drawers contained jewels. The first was full of necklaces,

the second held rings and brooches, the third had tiaras and chaplets,

the fourth girdles, and the fifth bracelets, and they were all of the

most beautiful jewels in the world--rubies, sapphires, emeralds, pearls

and diamonds, and opals, and many other stones that the Princess did not

even know the names of.

In the sixth drawer was a dry brown wreath that fell to pieces as

Pandora lifted it. It had been jasmine once, and the Queen had worn

it at her wedding.

[Illustration: 'In the drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a

written page.'--Page 347.]

And in the seventh drawer was just one jewelled ring. It lay on a

written page.

The Princess read the writing:

'This ring is for my son's wife, or for my daughter, if I have no son.

It is the magic ring given thousands of years ago to a Queen of this

country. It has the power of changing the wearer into whatever shapes he

chooses. But it has never been used, because the Kings of this country

have always been so good and kind, and clever and beloved, that their

wives could never think of any change that would not be a change for the

worse. There is only one thing in the world that this jewel cannot touch

or change. And this is of all things in the world the most important

thing.'

Pandora kissed the written words and slipped the ring on to her finger.

It was a wonderful stone, like a sapphire that had tried to change into

an opal, and stopped halfway.

There was not a happier Princess living than Pandora. Yet she was not

afraid of change. Girls are like this sometimes, and she was very young

for her age.

She stood looking at the ring and turning it on her finger, and the fly

watched her with all its hundreds of eyes.

Now, you will, perhaps, have guessed that this fly was not an ordinary

fly, and you are right. But if you think he was an enchanted Prince or

anything of that sort you are wrong. The fly was simply the cleverest

fly of all flies--someone must be the cleverest in any society, you

know--and he was just clever enough to like to be where the Princess

was, and to look at her beauty with all his hundreds of eyes. He was

clever enough to like this and to know that he liked it, but he was not

clever enough to know why.

So now, as the Princess stood fingering her ring and trying to make her

mind up, he gave an interested buzz, and the Princess jumped.

'Oh,' she said, 'it's only a horrid fly! But it has wings. It must be

lovely to have wings. I wish I were a fairy no bigger than that fly.'

And instantly she and her silver-trained gown, and her silver shoes, and

the magic ring, and everything about her, grew suddenly small, till she

was just as big as the fly and no bigger, and that is flower-fairy size.

Silver gauze wings grew out of her shoulders; she felt them unfolding

slowly, like a dragon-fly's wings when he first comes out of that dull

brown coat of his that hasn't any wing-parts.

She gave a tiny shriek of joyous surprise, and fluttered out through the

open window and down across the marble terraces to the palace

flowergarden. The fly buzzed heavily after her.

Pandora fluttered among roses and lilies on her bright, light, white

wings, but presently she was tired, because flying is much harder work

than you would think, especially when you have not been brought up to it

from a child. So she looked about for a place to rest in, and saw near

her the cool pink cave of a foxglove flower. She alighted on its lip,

folded her wings, and walked in on her little fairy feet. It was very

pleasant inside the foxglove. The Princess sat down by a drop of dew,

which was quite a pool to the tiny lady, and presently she took off her

rings and laid them on the smooth floor of the pink cave, and began to

dabble her hands in the dew-pool. The fly had settled on the outer edge

of the flower, and watched her with all his hundreds of eyes.

And now the dreadful thing happened. Pandora, her hands and face wet

with dew, suddenly saw the daylight darken at the entrance of her

foxglove cave. Then a black-winged monster, with hundreds and hundreds

of eyes, came quickly towards her on its six legs. Pandora was very

frightened, and squeezed herself close to the back of her cave. The fly

moved on, and quickly picked up the magic ring, now so tiny that it

fitted nicely on to one of its front feet.

Next moment it had backed out of the foxglove, taking the ring with it,

and had flown off, and the Princess was left alone.

If she cried a little you can hardly blame her. You wait till you find

yourself one million three hundred thousand two hundred and seventy-four

times as small as you usually are, with no means whatever of getting

back to your proper size, then you'll understand how the Princess felt.

But she was a brave Princess; so she soon stopped crying, spread her

gauzy wings, and flew across the garden and up over the marble terraces

and in at the library window of the palace.

The King was reading the account of the birthday-party in the evening

paper, and he did not notice the Princess at all till she settled on his

ear. Then he put up his hand to brush her away, for he thought she was a

fly. She dodged his hand and settled again, and shouted 'Papa!' into his

ear as loud as ever she could. And the shout was no louder than a

fly's buzzing, but, as it was close to his ear, the King heard it very

distinctly.

[Illustration: 'A black-winged monster, with hundreds and hundreds of

eyes.'--Page 350]

'Bless my soul!' said the King, sitting very bolt upright.

'Don't move, daddy,' said the tiny Princess, 'even if I tickle your ear

with my wings. I found a magic jewel in one of dear mother's cabinets,

and I made it turn me into a fairy, and now a horrid fly has buzzed off

with the jewel, and I can't get back to my right size.'

'I must be dreaming,' said the King.

'I wish you were--I mean I wish I was--but it's true. I'll settle on

your hand now, and you'll see.'

The King looked at the tiny winged thing--flower-fairy size--that

settled on his hand. And he put on his spectacles and looked again. And

then he got a magnifying-glass and looked through that.

'Yes,' he said, 'it certainly is you! What a thing to happen, and on

your birthday, too! Oh dear! oh dear!'

'It _is_ rather hard, daddy,' said the poor Princess; 'but you are so

wise and clever, you'll be able to get me back to my right size again.'

'My dear,' said the King, 'I received a thorough commercial education,

but I never learned magic. In fact, I doubt whether it is still taught

even at Oxford.'

'Daddy dear,'said the Princess shyly, 'I've read a good many books about

magic--fairy-tales they're called, you know--and----'

'Yes,' said the King, who saw at once what she meant. 'Of course, I

shall do that first thing.'

And next morning all the newspapers contained an advertisement:

'Wanted, competent Prince to undo magic and restore Princesses to

their right size. None but eldest sons need apply. The usual reward

offered. Apply at the palace.'

'I think _that's_ a mistake, daddy,' said the Princess; 'in the fairy

stories it's always the youngest son who makes everything come right.

And people don't know their fairy history nowadays; they mayn't know

what the reward is.'

So the next day the advertisement was changed to:

'Any sons of respectable monarchs may apply. The successful

candidate will receive the Princess's hand in marriage.'

'It's all very well to put that in,' said the Princess to herself, 'but

if I don't like him I shan't marry him. I'll give him all my jewels

instead.'

But all the Kings' sons in the world had forgotten their magic, if they

ever knew any, and not one single Prince applied at the palace.

So the Princess had to do the only possible thing--make the best of it.

And she did it bravely.

Now, when the fly, whose name, by the way, was Muscadel, flew off from

the foxglove-bell with the magic jewel on his feathery foot, he flew

straight to the Princess's boudoir and settled down on his favourite

spot, the corner of the frame of her mirror. And there he sat and

wondered how he could best use the magic jewel. And he thought so hard

that he never noticed a large spider who spun a web right across the

corner where he sat, and when he spread his wings to assist his

meditations by a little exercise he was caught in the web.

'Aha!' said the spider, smiling greedily.

'Oh dear! oh dear!' said the fly.

'How nice you look!' said the spider.

Then very slowly and carefully she began to move towards him.

'What a terrible thing it is to be a fly!' said he. 'I wish I was a

spider.'

And, of course, instantly he was. He broke the web and scrambled down

the mirror, for he was still horribly frightened of the other spider. He

got out of the window and down into the garden, and hid himself under a

leaf of a burdock, which was there because the gardener was a lazy

fellow and neglected his business.

But it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. Before Muscadel had got

his breath after the shock of that dreadful web he saw a slow,

wrinkled-skinned creature, with bright yellow eyes, quite close to him.

It was a toad, and he knew that toads eat spiders.

'Oh, a spider's life isn't worth living!' he cried; 'I wish I was a

toad.'

And, of course, he was, for the magic jewel was still on his front foot.

Now that Muscadel was a toad he felt he should like to find a quiet damp

place to live in, so he crawled to the edge of the basin of the palace

fountain.

And when he had found a nice damp crack in the marble he squeezed in and

stayed there for some days. But one day, when he went out for a breath

of air and a woodlouse or two, a great beak clattered quite near him,

and startled him so that he nearly jumped out of his toad's skin.

The person with a beak was a stork, and Muscadel knew what the stork

wanted.

'Oh, a toad's life is a dog's life,' said Muscadel; 'I wish I was a

stork.'

So he was a stork, and the magic jewel, grown bigger, was round his

right leg.

It was fine to be a stork, and he did not envy even the golden eagle

that flew down to drink at the fountain. And when the eagle came within

a yard or two of him he felt so large and brave that he said:

'Keep to your own side, will you? Where are you shoving to?'

The golden eagle, whose temper is very short, looked at him with evil

golden eyes, and said:

'You'll soon see where I am shoving to,' and flew at him.

Muscadel saw that he had made a mistake that might cost him his life.

'Oh, what's the good of being a stork?' he said. 'I wish I was an

eagle.'

And as soon as he was one he flew away, leaving the other eagle with its

beak open in amazement, too much 'struck of a heap,' as he told his

wife afterwards, to follow the new bird and finish off their quarrel in

the air.

'Oh, how grand it is to be an eagle!' said Muscadel, sailing on

widespread wings; and just as he said it an arrow caught him under the

left wing. It hurt horribly. 'What a powerful thing an arrow is!' he

said. 'Dear me, how it hurts! I wish I was an arrow.'

So he was one, but he was an arrow in the quiver of a very stupid

bowman, who shot next day at a buzzard and missed it. So the arrow,

which was Muscadel, lodged high in an oak-tree, and the stupid bowman

could not get it down again.

'I don't like being a slave to a mere bow,' said Muscadel; 'I'll be a

bow myself.'

But when he was a bow the archer who owned him hurt his bow-back so in

fitting him with a new string that he got very cross, and said:

'This is worse slavery than the other. I want to be an archer.'

So he was an archer. And as it happened he was one of the King's

archers. The magic jewel was round his arm like a bracelet, and no one

saw it, for he kept it hidden up his arm under the sleeve of his buff

coat.

Now that Muscadel was a man, of course, he read the newspapers, and in

them he saw the King's advertisement, which was still appearing every

day.

'Dear me!' said Muscadel; 'of course the Princess couldn't get back to

her right size when I had taken the magic jewel away. I never thought of

that. Flies are thoughtless little things. And, by the way, taking that

jewel was stealing. Very wrong indeed. But I didn't know that when I was

a fly. So _I'm_ not a thief, and no more was the fly, because he didn't

know any better.'

That evening he had a little talk with the captain of the King's

archers, and in the morning the captain called on the King very early

and said:

'Sire, there's a crack-brained chap among my archers who says he can

make the Princess her right size again. Of course, it's all tommy-rot,

your Majesty, if I may be pardoned the expression, but I thought your

Majesty would like to know.'

'Oh, let him try,' said the King wearily; 'it's something to find

someone who even thinks he can do it.'

So next day Muscadel, the archer, put on his Sunday clothes and went up

to the palace, and a great, red-faced, burly fellow he was.

The King and all the Court were assembled to see the archer make the

Princess her own size again, though nobody believed he could do it.

The King was on his throne, and Pandora, still flower-fairy size, was

sitting on one of the carved gold flowers that adorned the throne's

right arm.

The archer bowed to the King and the Court, and to the Princess, though

he could not see her.

Then he looked round the crowded throne-room and said:

'Look here, your Majesty, this will never do.'

'Eh?' said the King.

'Magic can't be done in this sort of public way. I must be left alone

with the Princess. No; I can't have anyone bothering round. Not even

you, your Majesty.'

The King was rather offended, but the Princess got to his ear and

whispered, and then he gave the order for the throne-room to be cleared;

and when that was done, he set the tiny Princess on the table, and went

away himself and shut the door honourably behind him.

[Illustration: "On the table stood the dazzling figure of a real

full-sized princess."--Page 359.]

Then the archer said:

'Little Princess, you can be made your right size again if you will do

just what I tell you. Do you promise?'