“And this is the way you keep your promises, is it, Queen Ninnilinda?

This is the way you treat the poor child whom you engaged to bring up

with the same kindness which you exhibit to yonder unhappy boy? Think

not that I am not cognizant of all your proceedings! Think not that I

have not witnessed the indignities and unkindnesses you have heaped upon

him! Think not that I have not overheard your shameless words of

ingratitude towards myself. Think not, above all, that I, his friend and

protector, have kept Witikind an hour longer than was necessary for his

future happiness, in this abode of folly and weakness: think not, that

I, your own child’s sponsor, will allow him to be longer exposed to your

mismanagement, and evil influence. I gave you a fair warning; and you

must now take the consequences of having neglected it. You have had your

trial. It is over. Now comes your punishment.”

The Queen threw herself on her knees.

“No:” replied the Lady Abracadabra; “it is too late now. The sooner you

take leave of your son the better. But first, Prince Eigenwillig, come

here to me.”

“I won’t!” cried the Prince doggedly.

“It will be the worse for you if you don’t,” said the Fairy.

“I won’t, I tell you!” repeated the Prince.

“Oh Eigenwillig,” cried his mother, “for mercy’s sake, do as you are

bid; you know not what the consequences of disobedience may be!”

“Come, when I call you!” said Lady Abracadabra calmly, but fixing her

eye upon him, “come here and beg Witikind’s pardon for all your

abominable conduct towards him.”

Eigenwillig approached Witikind, who had already a smile of

reconciliation on his face, expecting that the Prince would now gladly

make up for his error. But the Hope of the Katzekopfs had no such

intention. He advanced indeed close to Witikind, and stretched out one

hand towards him, but with the other he snatched the Fairy’s wand off

the table, and before she could prevent him, he struck Witikind over the

head, and exclaimed, “Detestable creature! be thou turned into a timid

hare! Mays’t thou be hunted to death by dogs and men!”

In another instant he was gazing in amazement at what he had done; for

such was the portentous power of Abracadabra’s wand that, even in his

hands, it failed not to work the required transformation. Witikind was

crouching before them, a terrified trembling hare!

“Well!” cried the Fairy, “be it so. You have but anticipated my purpose,

evil-minded child that you are!” She opened a door that led into the

garden, and said,

“Hare! Hare! hurry away!

Neither halt nor rest,

And at Taubennest

You shall safely be, by the break of day.

No huntsman harm thee!

No hound alarm thee!

From evil I charm thee!

Bound forth! away! away!”

She paused a moment to see the little creature safe on its route, and

then closed the door.

“And now,” said she to the author of the mischief, “I come to settle my

account with thee. But first surrender my wand.”

“I’ll turn you into a toad first,” shouted the Prince, striking at her;

but with indecision in his voice and manner; for, in spite of his recent

triumph, he was utterly terrified at what he had done, and at what he

was doing. He already had a misgiving that Fairies are not to be trifled

with.

The Lady Abracadabra was, as may be supposed, in no humour to be turned

into a toad. She, therefore, merely stretched out her hand, and caught

hold of the extremity of the wand as the Hope of the Katzekopfs struck

her with it.

“Give me the wand!” said she.

“I shan’t!” cried Eigenwillig.

“Give it me directly!”

“I won’t, won’t, WON’T!” screamed the naughty boy, clinging fast to one

end of the wand, while the Fairy held the other.

“I shall make you glad enough to loose it before I have done with you.”

“Leave it alone, Eigenwillig,” cried his mother, clasping her hands.

“I won’t,” exclaimed the boy, “I won’t do anything you tell me. If you

had not spoilt me, I shouldn’t be in all this trouble now! I _won’t_

give it up, I say!”

“Then take the consequences!” said the Lady Abracadabra. As she said

these words, she darted up into the air, still keeping hold of the wand,

and lessening in size, as she rose, made her way towards the keyhole. By

the time she had reached it, dragging the Prince after her, she had

shrunk to the size which enabled her to go through it. But she paused

for a moment before she disappeared, and, standing on the handle of the

door, she cried out in a shrill, thin voice, such as might be expected

to issue from one of her diminutive size:—

“Follow wand,

Follow hand.”

Then she sprung through the keyhole, and in another instant her wand was

seen following her.

“Drop it now, my darling!” exclaimed the Queen. “Let her take her wand,

if she’ll only take herself off, too!”

All this time the wand was passing through the keyhole. Less and less of

it was left in sight. Now not more than an inch; now not half an inch;

now the tips of the Prince’s fingers seemed sucked up towards the

keyhole.

“Drop it,” cried the Queen, “why don’t you drop it?”

“Oh, mother, mother!” screamed the struggling, breathless boy, in an

agony of terror, “I can’t, I CAN’T; it has grown to my fingers; it

sticks to them! Oh dear! dear! what shall I do? my fingers are being

dragged through the keyhole! they are being stretched into strings! Oh

help me! help me!”

The Queen rushed to the door, before which her son was kicking and

writhing. But his efforts to escape were fruitless. To her horror, the

Queen beheld each joint tapering and elongating itself, till it could

pass through the narrow aperture; now, the wrists had disappeared; now,

in a twinkling, the elbows were out of sight; now the upper portion of

the arm was gone.

“Surely,” thought Ninnilinda, “she will never attempt to drag his head

through.” But she was wrong; the boy’s hair was rapidly sucked through

the keyhole, and the head began to lengthen itself out for the purpose

of following.

This was too much for endurance. The Queen strove with all her power to

open the door; but it was as fast as if it formed part of the original

wall. Then, in her dismay, she seized hold of the body of the Prince,

for the purpose of dragging him back; but a miserable, elongated drawl

from the other side of the door conveyed the boy’s entreaty that she

would not hurt him.

“Never mind what he says, niece,” cried the voice of the Fairy. “Hold

his legs tight, and in half a minute I shall have finished my work, and

wound him up!”

The Queen was so transfixed with dismay, that she stood motionless,

watching the receding body of the Prince, till the soles of his feet

caught her despairing eyes.

“There! ‘tis done now,” cried the Lady Abracadabra. “He makes a very

compact ball, and will travel well!”

The Queen, in her despair, now rushed to the door leading into the

flower-garden; but she was too late.

The Fairy had reached the extremity of the terrace, kicking before her

something that seemed like a ball of rope; but which ball was, in fact,

the convoluted form of Prince Eigenwillig.

In another moment, the lady Abracadabra and the Hope of the Katzekopfs

had bounded over the parapet, and were lost to view; and Queen

Ninnilinda fell, for the first time in her life, into a real swoon.

CHAPTER V.

The Heirs on their Travels.

“O see ye not yon narrow road,

So thick beset with thorns and briers?

That is the path of righteousness,

Though after it but few inquires.

“And see ye not that braid, braid road,

That lies across that lily leven?

That is the path of wickedness,

Though some call it the road to heaven.

“And see ye not that bonny road,

That winds about the fernie brae?

That is the road to fair Elf-land,

Where thou and I this night maun gae.”

_Thomas the Rhymer._

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V.

How is it that the faithful hound succeeds in finding his way back to

his master’s house, from a distance of many miles, and through a country

which he has never been permitted to see? How is it that the

carrier-pigeon, when loosed from the bag in which it has been confined,

mounts up into the air, makes one brief circuit, and then pursues his

way, through an unknown region, in a straight line homeward? Mysteries

these, which the more we attempt to investigate them, the more do they

bewilder us, and, in the attempt to elucidate which, the learned and the

ignorant are alike at fault.

However, our daily experience of the fact that such things are, at once

removes any antecedent improbability which might otherwise suggest

itself to the sceptical, when it is mentioned that Witikind, though

transformed into a hare, found little difficulty in discovering his

route to Taubennest. Had he been even a hare only, his instinct would

probably have guided him in the right direction; but being a

sharp-witted boy, as well as a hare, there seems little cause for wonder

in the matter. The circumstance most worthy of remark is, that he should

have performed his journey of many hundred miles in the course of a

single night. The spells of the Lady Abracadabra had secured him from

the perils of huntsmen and hounds; but how had she bestowed upon him

such marvellous speed of foot? The sun was setting, as we know, when the

son of Count Rudolf received his unexpected dismissal from the Court of

King Katzekopf: ere the moon had risen, the towers and cupolas of the

city scarce broke the line of the distant horizon: by midnight, a

distance which, to the ordinary traveller, would have been equivalent to

a six-days’ journey, had been mastered, and when the chilliness of the

first grey dawn refreshed the heated frame of the breathless quadruped,

the giant forms of his own loved mountains were looming dim and

indistinct in the shadowy distance. What was it that gave to Witikind

the speed of the winged wind? Was it solely the boon of his patroness?

or was it not the magic of deep affection,—of filial and fraternal love,

and the spells of _home_—which infused into his tender frame a vigour

with which even the supernatural gifts of Fairy-land would have been

unable to inspire him?

“Over the mountains,

And over the waves,

Under the fountains,

And under the graves;

Over floods that are deepest,

Which Neptune obey;

Over rocks that are steepest,

Love will find out the way.

“Where there is no place

For the glow-worm to lie;

Where there is no space

For receipt of a fly;

Where the midge dares not venture,

Lest herself fast she lay;

If Love come, he will enter,

And soon find out his way.”

And thus it was that Love urged Witikind on his way, and inspired him to

task to the uttermost the extraordinary powers with which he had been

endowed. No loiterer, nor lingerer was he; “he stay’d not for brake, and

he stopp’d not for stone,” till the turrets of his happy home at

Taubennest caught his eyes, glittering in the brightness of the morning

sun.

But Taubennest, whatever it might be in his imagination, had scarce

deserved the name of _happy_ Taubennest, since the day he quitted it. It

was not that his sisters had not had many a pleasant walk, and played at

many a merry game together, during his absence. It was not that no

smiles had ever lightened his mother’s brow of care. Things had gone on

much in their usual course; a year (for it was no more) of separation

had not wrought many obvious changes, save that Count Rudolf’s health

was declining; disappointed hopes, and ungratified ambition are worse

diseases than fever or consumption, and they were wearing his life away.

Countess Ermengarde had spent many days in calm content, and in active

usefulness, and these things bring their reward of peace with them. The

little girls had not lost the gaiety of disposition which is natural to

their years, and their minds were in a process of training, which is

sure to produce a happy temper. So Taubennest seemed to the friends of

the family the same bright joyous scene as ever.

And yet they who watched closely, would see a tear falling at times,

from the mother’s eye, or mark that now and then an involuntary sigh

would escape from her. And they who looked for it might observe, that

ever and anon some game was laid aside by the children, because _two_

felt that they could find no pleasure in it, when the _third_, who had

been used to join in it, was absent. And walks were chosen, because they

had been favourites with some one who was no longer of the party. And

every thing that awakened an association of this description was most

dearly prized. Surely they did not err who deemed that at such seasons

Witikind was foremost in his mother’s and his sisters’ thoughts.

“I wonder,” said Veronica to Ediltrudis, “whether we shall find the

rosebud blown this morning. Mamma said she thought it would not be out

for three days. What a pity he planted such a late-flowering rose in his

garden. It would have been such a nice present for Mamma on his

birthday.”

“Dear Witikind!” exclaimed Ediltrudis, “how few besides himself would

ever have thought of such a delicate attention to Mamma, as his choice

of that tree involved! ‘What kind of rose shall we plant against the

trellis which surrounds your garden?’ asked the gardener. ‘Shall it be

the blush-moss from Candahar? it is the choicest rose grown; but I have

a promise of one for you, if you wish it.’ ‘No, Florian, that will not

suit me, unless it be the latest, as well as the choicest rose that

grows. I do not care for a rose that I can gather when roses are in

plenty; you must find one for me that will be in flower when all others

are gone. You know how the Countess loves flowers. I want to be able to

provide her with a nosegay, when nobody else can do so.’”

“Ah!” replied Veronica, “that was just like Witikind. A more

affectionate heart than his never beat. How I hope we shall find one of

his buds in flower! It is quite too soon to expect it; but that was a

chance cluster which we observed yesterday, and, perhaps, one of the

buds may be far enough advanced by this time. If it be open ever so

little, I would gather it for Mamma.”

“How I wish some good Fairy would touch the buds with her wand, and

provide us each with a full-blown rose; one for Mamma; one for you; and

one for me.”

“Nay,” said Veronica, “I shall be satisfied if only a few petals of that

single bud be open. I shall hail it as a good omen that we shall have

Witikind himself among us before the year is over.”

“What a fanciful notion!” answered Ediltrudis, laughing. “There is no

end to your romantic imaginations. Now, I confess that, for my part, I

shall be quite surprised if I find that——why look here!” she suddenly

exclaimed, as, being a little in advance of her sister, she caught the

first glimpse of the rose-tree. “Look here, Veronica; make haste, make

haste, a Fairy must have been here.”

“How very extraordinary!” cried the child, running up. “Four full-blown

roses on this cluster! And yet, when we were here yesterday, there was

but one bud at all advanced, and the others were tiny, tiny things,

which I thought would not be in bloom for months to come! You may say

what you will, Ediltrudis, but this _must_ be a good omen. There is not

only a rose for Mamma, and for each of us, but one for Papa likewise.”

“You forget that Papa does not care for flowers.”

“Ah, poor Papa, the smell is too strong for his head now; but, perhaps,

he would not dislike a rose if he knew it was gathered from Witikind’s

tree.”

Ediltrudis shook her head.

“But what if it should be for Witikind himself?” cried Veronica with

eagerness, as so pleasant a thought struck her. “Depend upon it, this is

a token that Witikind will be here before long, to gather his own

roses!”

“I hope you don’t mean to leave these ungathered till he comes. Why, if

you don’t cut them now, they will shed their leaves with the noon-day

heat. You are not hesitating about gathering them, surely, Veronica?”

“Why I don’t know what to think,” replied Veronica doubtfully. “Suppose

we wait till we come in from our walk.”

“Nonsense!” said Ediltrudis; “lend me your knife, and let us carry them

in to Mamma at once.”

“Very well,” answered Veronica; “only let me tie up this

clove-gilliflower first. How sadly,” she continued, “its leaves have

been eaten. I wish we could keep those tiresome hares out.”

“It won’t be easy to do that while they are as bold as they are at

present. See there! there is one coming now to the bed, though we are

standing here. I wonder what people mean by talking of timid hares. I am

sure here they are as bold as lions. Sh! sh! get away with you!” cried

Ediltrudis, clapping her hands, and making a noise which was likely to

have put any ordinary hare to flight.

But the little animal made no attempt to retrace his steps.

“Sh! sh!” cried Ediltrudis once more; and taking up a pebble, made as

though she was about to throw it.

“Nay,” said Veronica, “do not hurt it. See how weary the poor creature

looks; how faint and breathless; and how soiled is its fur! It has been

hunted, and has fled here for succour. Come here, poor thing. I will

protect you!”

The animal approached Veronica, and crouched at her feet. “Get some

water, Ediltrudis! it is going to die; I am sure it is; its eyes look so

dim and glassy.”

Ediltrudis ran to a fountain close at hand, and brought some water in a

shell which lay at its side. Veronica stooped down to place the water

within reach of the exhausted animal, and, as she did so, she was about

to pat it gently; but no sooner did her hand light upon its head, than a

shock like that from an electric battery, ran through her frame, and

made her start violently. Before she could recover herself, the hare had

disappeared, and Witikind was in his sisters’ arms.

For a time, the children were too much overwhelmed with terror and

amazement, to be able to speak. Veronica would have fainted, but for the

timely supply of water which was close at hand; and even when she came

to herself, she could not persuade herself that she was not dreaming.

But there was something too hearty in the embraces of Witikind, and his

kisses were altogether too vehement to have come from Dreamland.

Briefly, but clearly, he made them acquainted with the events which had

befallen him, and when, by degrees, they began to comprehend the reality

of what they saw, he sent them into the castle, to prepare the Countess

for his arrival.

Poor children! it was an arduous task. The excess of their joy made them

as timid and afraid to speak, as excess of sorrow might have done.

However, the roses helped them, and, as it were, prepared the mother’s

mind for some unexpected intelligence of her boy; for, in those days,

people thought more about the unseen world, and the interference of

spiritual beings in men’s affairs, than they do now. And so, at length,

the Countess Ermengarde, and the other inhabitants of Taubennest, were

brought to understand that Witikind was once more among them.

Oh! how vain it were to attempt to describe the scene which then

ensued!—

“Eager steps the threshold pressing;

Open’d arms in haste advancing;

Joyful looks through blind tears glancing;

The gladsome bounding of his aged hound,

Say he in truth is here! our long, long lost is found.”

The reader’s imagination must delineate to him the ecstatic joy of that

meeting; how embrace followed embrace, and a thousand questions were put

to him, ere Witikind had time to answer ten: how Count Rudolf, having

first forgotten his ambitious schemes, in the joy of seeing his son,

soon began to express his belief that the Lady Abracadabra had

mismanaged things shockingly; that she was a Fairy without either talent

or discrimination; that she ought not to have allowed the boy to quit

the palace till she had secured a handsome pension for him; and that it

was quite inexcusable of her to allow a child of Witikind’s high rank to

return home in the form of a hare, and to be liable to be barked at by

every village cur; how Witikind poured forth his regrets that he had

ever been selfish enough to desire to leave his home; how ardently he

hoped that all he had gone through had cured him of some of his worst

faults; how useful a lesson he had been taught; how truly he appreciated

the blessing of a home; and how earnestly he trusted that his future

life would be spent in doing good to his neighbours and dependants at

Taubennest.

“I have seen enough,” said he, “young as I am, to cure me of ambition. I

would rather pass my days in retirement here, striving to benefit those

among whom I dwell, and to repay, so far as I can, my dear parents’ care

of me, than have the highest place and the highest honours, in the

greatest kingdom in the universe.”

“Wait a few years, and we shall see!” said Count Rudolf.

“May Heaven strengthen you to keep to such a determination, my dearest

Witikind,” exclaimed the Countess Ermengarde. “The Fairy has proved

herself a true friend to us, by giving you an opportunity of learning,

by your own experience, to estimate, at their proper value, those things

which are so commonly looked on as advantages, and which the world so

earnestly covets. How I long to express my thanks to our kind patroness!

How earnestly I hope she will continue to help you with her counsels and

advice!”

“Mother,” replied the boy, “I am as grateful to her as you could wish me

to be; but so long as I can be guided by _you_, I will seek no other

counsellor!”

As he said this, he threw himself into his mother’s arms, and mingled

his kisses with her tears of affection and joy.

And thus engaged we must leave them for the present.

* * * * *

Bump, bump, bump! never was ball so elastic and springy. Caoutchouc was

as lazy and lumpish as lead itself when compared with it! Bump, bump,

bump! and a bound of twenty feet between each bump. Down to the ground

as light as a feather, and then up in the air again, ever so high,

almost before you could say it had touched the earth. A single kick from

the Lady Abracadabra, and away it went, down the broad gravel terrace,

as if it took pleasure in its feats!

Poor Prince Eigenwillig: it was lucky for you that that same process of

drawing you through the keyhole, which, so to speak, had elongated you

into a coil of living catgut, had also transformed your bones into

gristle. Had there been any brittle material left in your fabric, it

must have been fractured; but you were more mercifully dealt with than,

considering your conduct to little Witikind, you deserved. The Fairy had

no malevolent intentions towards you, though she did not choose that

your audacious misbehaviour should go unpunished. She made a foot-ball

of you, and kicked you before her, which was very much the kind of

treatment you had bestowed upon all your attendants; but she had no wish

to do you a mischief in life or limb; she only desired to administer

some wholesome discipline.

Down the broad terrace bounded the involuntary traveller, and over the

parapet in which it terminated. Fifty feet and more did the contorted

Hope of the Katzekopfs traverse in the air before a bed of nettles

received him. Over and over did he turn, to escape the stinging torment,

but in vain: even the most elastic of balls cannot raise itself out of

the bottom of a ditch.

Another kick from the Fairy was necessary; and as she kicked him, she

exclaimed, “This is your punishment for having endeavoured to turn me

into a toad: you may thank your lucky stars, and my good-nature, that

this ditch is filled with nothing worse than nettles: it would have

served you right had it been full of vipers.”

The Prince was smarting all over, so, perhaps, he did not feel as

grateful as the Lady Abracadabra seemed to expect. But however that

might be, there was no time for talking. Up the bank he flew, and

pursued his painful way, “through bush, and through briar,” now over a

wide expanse of gorse, now over thistly wastes, till there was not a

quarter of an inch on the whole surface of the ball which had not

received its share of castigation.

“Stop!” cried the Lady Abracadabra at length; and the Prince was but too

glad to obey. “Come hither!” she continued. The Prince rolled towards

her. As soon as he was within reach, she slipped off her girdle, and

passing it through two or three of the living coils, lifted the ball

from the ground, and threw it over her shoulder with a jerk, much in the

same manner that a porter raises a sack on his back. Then she whistled

three times; her cockatrice appeared at the sound; she sprung on her

embroidered saddle,—her burden still suspended from her shoulder:—she

gave the word; the monster spread forth his wings, and rose in the air;

and in a few seconds the Hope of the Katzekopfs was far away from the

scene of his errors, and from the influence of those whose weak

indulgence had contributed to confirm him in them.

Darkness was now coming on apace, and the Prince was too much entangled

in his own circumvolutions to be able to see very accurately whither he

was wending, even had he known the country; but he was conscious that he

was mounting higher and higher, and that he was being borne along with

such increasing rapidity, that he thought within himself that they would

certainly reach the world’s end by sunrise. On, and on, and on. The moon

rose and set. The night air grew colder and colder: the clouds among

which they travelled seemed denser and denser. Shivering at once and

smarting; exhausted and hungry; terrified and indignant, the unhappy son

of Queen Ninnilinda at length sunk into a state of apathy or

unconsciousness.

How far, therefore, or in what direction he had been conveyed he knew

not, but when he came to himself, morning had dawned, and he was aware

that the Fairy was hovering at no great distance above the summit of a

grassy hill, in the midst of a wooded country.

“Stop!” cried the Lady Abracadabra to her steed. The cockatrice poised

in mid air. “Now, Eigenwillig,” said she, “you are going into

Fairy-land. Take care how you behave there, for my countrymen are not to

be trifled with.”

As she spoke she slipped one end of her girdle, and at the same moment

the Prince became conscious that he was falling as rapidly as he had

risen. But this was not all, for still, as he fell, he was conscious

that he was no longer a compact ball, but that he was unrolling—yard

after yard—with the greatest velocity; and not only so, but that his

elongated form was shrinking back again to its original dimensions.

No sooner was he aware of this than a fresh terror seized him. “I am

being restored to my natural shape,” thought he, “only to be dashed to

pieces when I reach the summit of the hill beneath me.”

In a few moments he touched the earth; but instead of receiving a

concussion which shattered him to atoms, he fell as lightly on the

summit of the grassy knoll, as if a featherbed had been placed there to

receive him; and, stranger still, the green turf immediately parting

asunder beneath him, he continued to fall through a chasm which opened

below him, and closed above him, till suddenly he found himself once

more emerging into daylight, and entering into a country altogether new

to him, in the bowels of the earth.

A single glance sufficed to show that he was in Fairy-land; for where

else grow trees with fruits that gleam like precious stones? where else

is the whole surface of the country covered with flowers of the most

dazzling hues, and most delicious fragrance? where else is every

dwelling a palace, and every palace built of gold and silver, and

mother-o’-pearl? and of what but Fairies could those troops of delicate,

ethereal forms consist, some of which were chasing each other in mid

air, and some, with robes as green as the grass upon which they scarce

deigned to tread, were hurrying hither and thither to discharge the

various tasks assigned them by their sovereign?

Prince Eigenwillig had scarcely reached the ground before he was

surrounded by a crowd of them, while, in a moment, scores more were

swarming over him in the air.

“Ho! ho! who are you? How came you here?” cried a little sprite, who, by

his crabbed face, and the bullrush which he carried in his hand like a

mace, was probably the holder of some such office among the elves, as,

with us mortals, is occupied by the parish beadle. “Ho! ho!” said he,

poking the Prince with his staff of office. “Who are you? How came you

here?”

“The Lady Abracadabra, whom perhaps you know, dropped me just now from

the clouds,” replied the Prince.

“Ha! ha! ha!” shouted the whole troop laughing immoderately, “what a

comical lady she is! Why, how come you with such fine clothes? Who are

you?”

“I am the Prince Eigenwillig, eldest son of King Katzekopf,” replied the

boy, throwing as much dignity into his manner as possible, for he was

altogether unaccustomed to such interrogations, and had no idea of not

being treated with profound respect.

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed the elves louder than ever. “What a _very_ comical

fancy! Why this is the spoilt boy, that gave himself such airs, and was

so selfish that nobody could endure him! What a strange choice to fix on

_him_ of all people! To think of sending us a prince for our new

apprentice! Well, Prince, what can you do?” asked he of the bullrush.

“_Do!_” said the Prince. “I don’t know what you mean. But I wish,

gentlemen, you would let me have something to eat, for I am very

hungry.”

“Ha! ha! ha! how very ridiculous, the apprentice wants something to eat!

I tell you what, my young friend, you must take care what you are about,

or you’ll make some of us laugh till we go into fits!”

“I don’t see anything laughable in asking for food when one’s hungry!”

observed the Prince rather sulkily.

“No, no;” answered the first speaker as soon as he recovered breath,

“the oddity consisted in the notion that you could get it by asking for

it, and without doing anything to earn it. Nothing for nothing, is the

rule here.”

“Well, I’ll pay for it honestly,—I’ll give you money for it,” said the

Hope of the Katzekopfs.

“Money! what is money?” inquired a very young Fairy.

The man in authority laughed louder than ever. “Little bits of the

stones we build our houses of, my child,” said he. “No, Prince, you must

offer us something more to our taste than money, before we can find you

provisions. Money is of no use here: we often mend the roads with it.”

“Then what is it you require of me?” asked the Prince, in a perturbed

and astonished tone.

“Why you must work, work, work, like a dutiful apprentice, and then, as

often as it is proper, you shall have something to eat.”

“Who am I to work for? what work am I expected to do?” inquired the

scion of royalty.

“Oh you’re to work for me!” answered a shrill voice.

“And for me.” “And me.” “And me,” added a hundred more.

“Why, of course, you are to work for all of us,” observed the bearer of

the bullrush gravely, “how could you be our apprentice else?”

“My chimneys want sweeping,” cried one.

“My garden wants digging,” said another.

“My house wants scouring,” observed a third.

“My ditches want cleaning,” remarked a fourth.

“I’m sure I shan’t clean ditches, or sweep chimneys for anybody,” said

the Prince, in a most resolute tone.

“Ha! ha! ha! nobody asked you!” shouted the sprites, and away they all

swept like a flight of starlings, making the air ring with their shrill

laughter, while some of them sang,—

“Our apprentice has got an obstinate fit;

Hunger and thirst shall cure him of it.

He shall not eat

A morsel of meat,

He need not think

A drop to drink,

Till he works and earns it every bit!”

The Prince was now left alone. Not a Fairy remained in sight. So long as

there was a single spectator, the boy’s pride enabled him to seem bold

and unyielding; but when he was sure that no eye was upon him, overcome

with weariness and vexation, he threw himself down upon the ground and

sobbed as though his heart would break.

Poor child, he was to be pitied! There he was, without a friend—so far

as he knew—near him; unable any longer to command attention on the score

of his exalted rank; conscious within himself that all his misfortunes

were the consequences of his own errors; and yet, at present, so rooted

in his bad habits, that he was rather disposed to punish himself to any

amount, than do anything which seemed to imply a disposition to yield

and submit.

Long and sore he wept; but, in the end, hunger and thirst prevailed, and

induced him to dry his tears, and to endeavour to obtain for himself

that sustenance which the inhospitable Fairies would not provide him

withal.

And he did not long hesitate as to the quarter whence he would seek

refreshment. Those trees, laden with glittering fruits, had caught his

eye the moment he entered Fairy-land, and he now resolved to help

himself. To be sure the trees were high, and he was unused to climbing,

but he did not feel much apprehension of not being able to get as much

fruit as he needed; but he soon found greater difficulties than he

expected. The first tree which he attempted to ascend had such an

unctuous, slippery bark, that he only mounted a few yards, before he

involuntarily slid to the ground. And this happened again and again. The

next tree he approached had the most luscious-looking pears imaginable,

hanging quite within his reach; but when he had advanced within a few

yards of it, he beheld a tiger, glaring at him with blood-shot eyes,

from within the tangled thicket. A third tree offered him its fruits,

but the rind was so hard that his teeth could not penetrate it: in a

fourth, the products, though beautiful to the eye, seemed to the taste

like liquid fire;—his lips scarce touched them before they were

blistered.

So he soon gave up the fruit trees in despair, and hastened towards a

lake, which seemed at an inconsiderable distance, in order to satisfy

his thirst with its sparkling waters. But soon he discovered that, as he

advanced, the lake retreated, and that a shadowy vapour was mocking his

aching sight.

Faint and weary he threw himself upon the ground once more and wept. But

his tears this time were not those of offended pride, but of real

suffering and distress.

“Alas!” thought he to himself, “how much I wish that I had considered

more about the sufferings of those beneath me,—the poor, and sick, and

hungry, and thirsty in my father’s kingdom! If I die here of hunger and

thirst, nobody will miss me; nobody will mourn for me! Even Nurse

Yellowlily, and the governesses, will be glad to find that they are not

to see me any more; and no wonder! for I used to plague them

shamefully.”

Thus did self-reproach mingle with the bodily discomforts of Prince

Eigenwillig. Ah! if those whom he had most wearied and irritated with

his naughty tricks, could have seen him now, they would have pitied and

soothed him! And what a lesson would it have been for silly Queen

Ninnilinda, could she have witnessed the end of her foolish indulgences!

It was a happy thing for the Hope of the Katzekopfs, that he _had_ no

one to pity and soothe him. The bitterer his pains now, the more hope

that he would escape them hereafter. The more searching and nauseous the

medicine, the more hope that he would be careful not to render it

necessary again, the more prospect that it would work an entire reform

in his constitution. The experience of the last twelve hours was doing

more for Prince Eigenwillig, than could have been acquired in as many

years at his father’s court. The course of self-examination upon which

the usage he had received in Fairy-land had caused him to enter was of

more real value to him than all the jewels in his future crown. The

sharp and trying process by which he was now in progress of being taught

the defects of his character, was a more certain evidence of the

good-will of his Fairy-godmother towards him, than all the precious

gifts which she had heaped upon him, on the day when she named him

Eigenwillig.

There is no night in Fairy-land; for elves have no need of that rest and

sleep which are indispensable to more gross and corporeal forms; so the

Prince knew not, save by the increase of his hunger and thirst, that

another day (as we mortals count time,) was drawing to its close. Hour

after hour he had lain upon the grass, alternately weeping and

meditating, and still uncertain what to do. Once or twice he felt

disposed to remain in his obstinacy. “I’m not going to be a slave,”

thought he, “and nobody shall compel me to work for them.” But then,

after a while, he reflected that there was no compulsion in the case.

So, when he got very hungry indeed, he determined he would apply to the

first Fairy he saw, for some job of work which should be worth a good

meal to him. No sooner had he made this resolution, than he felt rather

more comfortable in his mind, than when he was struggling with his

self-will; but his appetite was by no means relieved. “I shall see a

Fairy, no doubt, very soon,” said he. But he waited a long time, and not

one appeared in sight. “I wish I could see a Fairy!” he cried, after a

while. “What a terrible scrape I shall be in, if they have left this

part of the country! Perhaps I had better get up and walk onward!”

Up he got: but he was so faint and exhausted, he was obliged to rest at

the end of half-a-mile. “Alas! alas! how rash was I to offend them: how

wrong to give way to my pride and bad temper! But what a terrible

punishment they are inflicting! They have certainly left me to starve!”

And the Prince buried his face in his knees, and wept once more. He had

not sat long, when he heard a rustling in the air above him, and,

looking up, he beheld, within a few yards of him, two Fairies, bearing

between them a basket laden with most delicious-looking grapes.

“Gentlemen,” said the Prince, “can you set me to work? I should be very

glad to earn a meal.”

“Who are you?” asked the first.

“Oh,” replied the second, “he’s our new apprentice; the self-willed

Prince, who expected to live among us in idleness.”

“No, my little master,” said the first, addressing himself to the

Prince, “I’ve no work for you. You should have asked me when I was going

to the vineyard, not when I was coming from it. Let me find you here

twelve hours hence, and I dare say we can find you something to do.”

“But I shall be dead in twelve hours; I am so faint for want of food

now, I can hardly walk.”

“I am sorry for that,” observed the second Fairy. “What a pity you

didn’t sweep the chimneys, and clean the ditches, when you had the

offer. But it can’t be helped. Nothing for nothing is the rule here.

Farewell, Prince Wilful. Come, Tomalin, forward with our burden.”

“Nay, nay,” replied Tomalin, who was the more amiable-looking of the

two; “if it be as he says, and if he be willing to work, we may as well

do somewhat for him. Maybe he is inclining to mend his ways.”

“You are the ruin of our apprentices with your good-nature,” replied

Claribel, “but I suppose it must be as you wish. Suppose we give him the

grapes to carry. Come Prince-Apprentice, here’s work for you, if you

want it. Carry our load for us over the hill yonder, and you shall have

some of the fruit for your pains.”

The Hope of the Katzekopfs came forward with alacrity: at least, with

all the alacrity in his power.

“Take care you don’t drop any!” said Tomalin, helping him to throw the

basket over his shoulder. “Now, then, away with you!”

The Prince bent under his burden with hearty good-will. The elves had

seemed to bear it through the air without the slightest difficulty, and

he anticipated that, after all, he had got an easy task. But he was

wofully disappointed. The grapes might have been bullets, to judge from

their weight. The basket, instead of resting easily on his shoulder,

nearly dragged him backwards. He was tempted to relinquish his task

almost at the outset. Fortunately, however, his natural resoluteness of

character, which so often had assumed the shape of obstinacy, now

displayed itself in a more praiseworthy form; he determined to prove his

sincerity, by doing his best.

And he was rewarded. For, after reeling and staggering a few steps, the

burden at his back seemed somewhat lighter. At first the relief was

almost imperceptible, but the further he advanced, the more his load was

lessened, so that, at the end of two or three hundred yards, he found he

was getting on with tolerable ease.

He ventured to remark the change to his companions. They only smiled,

and said, “It is ever so when folks are in earnest.” It was a long tug

up the hill, and the Prince was a good deal out of breath; but he did

not lose heart, and, before long, had arrived at a mansion built of

mother-o’-pearl, and adorned with cupolas and domes of silver, according

to the usual form of Fairy architecture. Here, still bearing his burden

on his back, he passed through a tennis-court of ivory, thence through a

hall of blue sapphire, down a long corridor of agate, into a kitchen of

crystal, with doors of nutmeg, and pillars of green ginger. Here he was

bidden to set down his load, and was allowed to refresh himself with the

grapes.

“You have worked hard and shown hearty good-will,” said Claribel, “so

you may eat as many grapes as you like, while we take our own repast.”

And a strange repast it seemed. If the Prince had not been too much

occupied with the grapes, he might have ventured to ask its nature, and

perhaps would have received some such reply as the following:—

“A roasted ant that’s nicely done,

By one small atom of the sun;

These are flies’ eggs, in moonshine poach’d;

This a flea’s thigh, in collops scotched—

‘Twas hunted yesterday i’ the park,

And like t’have ‘scaped us in the dark.

This is a dish entirely new—

Butterflies’ brains, dissolved in dew;

These lovers’ vows, these courtiers’ hopes,

Things to be eat by microscopes;

These sucking-mites, a glow-worm’s heart,

This a delicious rainbow tart.”[2]

Footnote 2:

King’s Works, Edit. 1776, vol. III., p. 112.

“I begin to have hopes of our apprentice,” observed Tomalin, when he had

finished his supper. “There’s plenty of work for him in the meadow

yonder. I want to have all the worm-casts stopped. You had better go and

set about it, my little master.”

Prince Eigenwillig coloured, and, for a moment, he had a struggle with

himself not to say that as he had now got a meal, he did not intend to

do any more work; but experience had taught him wisdom; so he expressed

his willingness to do what he was bidden, only hinting that he should be

better up to his work, if he could be allowed a few hours’ sleep.

“Oh, true,” said Claribel, “I forgot that;” Then he showed the Hope of

the Katzekopfs a soft bed of moss, and bade the weary child rest

himself.

Prince Eigenwillig—king’s son as he was—had never eaten so delicious a

meal as those few bunches of grapes, earned with the sweat of his brow,

and never had he slept so sound between sheets of the finest cambric, as

now on that mossy couch.

And better still, when he woke, he woke with a light heart—light, though

he was far from home, and forced to work for his bread, as the Fairy’s

apprentice. From the moment in which he made up his mind to take his

trial cheerfully, and do what he was bidden, the whole prospect seemed

to brighten before him.

And the Fairies, who, at first, appeared cross, and spiteful, and

capricious towards him, by degrees softened in their manner. The feeling

that he was at every body’s call, and that he had more masters to please

than he could count, was certainly very disheartening at the outset; but

in a few days he got reconciled to it. And then, moreover, he had the

satisfaction of finding that the kind of labour to which he was put was

changed. At first, and while the Fairies thought him disposed to be

obstinate and self-willed, and inclined to rebel, they set him to all

the dirtiest and hardest tasks they could think of; but, as they

observed him growing more willing and good-humoured, they made more of a

companion of him than a servant, and at length he became such a

favourite, that he was allowed to join in their sports.

Hitherto he had seen nothing of the Lady Abracadabra; but when the

Prince had thus gained the regard of her countrymen, she suddenly

appeared among them, and inquired how their apprentice had conducted

himself.

All were open mouthed in his praise. Even the beadle with the bullrush,

had a word to say in his favour, and Claribel declared that he thought

the Lady Abracadabra’s object was accomplished, and her godchild might

be allowed to revisit his family.

But the Lady Abracadabra, though smiling kindly on him, shook her head.

“Alas,” said she, “you know not how much he has to unlearn every way,

and how great are the trials to which he would still be exposed at home.

But so far, so good. He has learned to obey orders. We must now see

whether he has learned to govern _himself_.”

CHAPTER VI.

Experiments on the Heir.

_Portia._——“Now make your choice.

_Morocco._ “The first of gold, who this inscription bears:

‘Who chuseth me, shall gain what many men desire.’

The second silver, which this promise carries:

‘Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.’

This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt:

‘Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.’

How shall I know if I do chuse the right?”

_Shakespeare._

[Illustration]

CHAPTER VI.

The Hope of the Katzekopfs was alone once more: the Lady Abracadabra had

brought her countrymen another apprentice, in his place, and Prince

Eigenwillig’s term of servitude was ended. But, as has been already

intimated, this measure was only the prelude to a further trial; for his

Fairy-sponsor had no intention of allowing him to quit Fairy-land, till

his mind had been so far disciplined as to give every reasonable hope

that in spite of the temptations to which he was likely to be exposed at

home, he would turn out a good man and a good king.

The Prince was once more alone; for the Lady Abracadabra had suddenly

transported him to a district in Fairy-land, which he had not hitherto

seen; but instead of being, as on a former occasion, an ill-tempered,

unhappy, weary, hungry boy, he was there with a light heart, expecting

companions whom his godmother promised should meet him, and anticipating

no small pleasure, from being allowed to roam at will through the realm

of the Fairies.

The part of the country in which he found himself was even more

beautiful than that with which he had been made acquainted at first. The

flowers were of a more dazzling brilliancy, and more perfect fragrance.

The fruits upon the trees were even more tempting in their appearance.

The waters sparkled like diamonds, and the mingled forms of hill and

valley arranged themselves into the most exquisite landscape imaginable.

While the Prince stood gazing on the scene, listening to the enchanting

songs of the birds, and watching the flight of butterflies, each more

delicate in form and colouring than the other, he observed a figure

approaching him out of a neighbouring thicket. The form was that of an

aged man, with white hair, and white beard, and a long grey robe

reaching down to his feet. He was very pale, and very thin, and his

shoulders were rather bent. He was not different in height and size,

from the generality of the inhabitants of Fairy-land; and so the Prince

supposed, at first sight, that, in spite of the stranger’s unusual

dress, he was one of the ordinary inhabitants of that country. And so,

perhaps, he might have been. But there was a gravity in his manner, and

calm severity in his eye, which was unlike other Fairies, whose

countenances have generally a merry, sly, or mischievous expression.

The Prince continued to gaze on him, and as he gazed, their eyes met.

Immediately, and without being able to account for the feeling, the boy

felt himself fascinated. The old man’s expression was stern and even

repulsive. Under ordinary circumstances, the Prince would have said to

himself, “What an odd, disagreeable face is that!” would have turned

away from it, and never thought of it again. But now the face rivetted

him, and as he looked on it, its severity seemed to relax, and the mouth

had something of inexpressible sweetness in it.

“Good-morrow to you, my Prince,” said the old man, “I have been long

looking for you, and am glad to have found you at last.”

There was nothing peculiarly attractive in his voice, which, indeed, to

Eigenwillig’s ears, sounded rather harsh and grating; but the old man’s

manner was very kind and winning, though his words surprised the Prince

not a little.

“I thank you, good father,” said he; “but how is it possible that you

should have been long looking for me? Are you a friend of King

Katzekopf, or of Queen Ninnilinda?”

“No, my son. I knew them once for a short time; but they have long since

forgotten my very existence.”

“Then who are you, aged man?”

“Never mind who I am. I am not wont to tell my name at first. I have

found that it raises a prejudice against me. But you may be satisfied of

my good-will towards you, since it was by the Lady Abracadabra’s

direction that I came to seek you here. I am ready to be your companion,

if you are willing to accept my services.”

“I fear I should weary you out in a few hours,” replied the Prince, “you

forget that I have the active limbs of youth, and that you, my father,

guide your steps with a staff.”

“Nay,” answered the old man, “the fear is on the other side. I am more

like to weary you, than you to weary me.”

“Have you ever travelled with any as young as I am?”

“I have set out upon pilgrimage with multitudes such as you are,”

answered the stranger with a sigh, “and some,” he added, “have I

accompanied to their journey’s end. And dearly have they loved me.”

“I think I should love you, too, and like you for a companion,” said the

Prince, “for though you look severe, and speak gravely, your manner

bespeaks kind intentions.”

“Stay,” said the old man, “perhaps you choose me because no more

acceptable guide appears at hand. The Lady Abracadabra did not mean to

restrict you in your choice. If I mistake not, we have another companion

hard at hand. Lo you there!”

The Prince following the direction of the old man’s eyes, turned himself

a little to the left, and there, close by his side, he perceived a tiny

sprite, scarce a span high, who was eyeing the old man with a most

malevolent and insulting expression of countenance.

The Prince gazed at him in wonder; he had never seen a creature so

small, wearing the human form. “Surely!” he remarked to his aged

companion, “this must be the most diminutive of elves.”

“All persons think him so,” replied the old man, “when first they see

him; indeed, many declare that, except in a strong light, and after a

good deal of exertion, they are unable to see him at all. And what is

very remarkable, he never appears alike to two persons at the same time.

For instance, I will be bold to say that he looks quite different in

your eyes and mine at this very moment. I think him a very hideous

little ape.”

“An ape!” exclaimed the Prince, “how you surprise me! To me he seems to

have the features of a good-looking boy.”

The old man gave a glance of peculiar meaning at the Prince, and

smiling, said, “Did you ever see any boy like him?”

“No!” answered the Hope of the Katzekopfs.

“There is nothing remarkable in that,” replied the grey-robed stranger,

with the same smile, and quiet tone, “some persons are more quick at

finding resemblances than others. What think you of his dress?”

“Oh,” said the Prince, “I see nothing to find fault with in that; it is

just like _my own_.”

The old man smiled once more.

Meanwhile the little Sprite was fidgetting about uneasily, endeavouring

to attract attention, as it should seem, and provoked at not finding his

efforts more successful.

“Good day to you, my fair and gracious Prince,” it said at length, in

tones which, to the Prince’s ear, sounded the softest and most agreeable

he had ever heard; “may I venture to address your royal highness?”

“Wait a moment longer,” said the old man, waving his hand. The Sprite

made a movement of impatience, which the Prince, involuntarily and

unconsciously as it were, repeated. The old man saw it. “Bear with me,

Sir, for a single instant. I was only going to say this to you. I am

aware that the merry gentleman yonder is more likely to find favour in

your eyes than I am. I can only engage that I will be a safe and

faithful friend to you, and that I ever keep the promises which I make.

If _he_ makes large professions to you, perhaps you will do well to

consider his probable ability to fulfil them. I will now leave you to

make your decision. I will not interrupt your colloquy, nor attempt to

bias your judgment. You have heard me without interruption. You will now

have an opportunity of hearing him. It may be that I already anticipate

your decision; but of that I say nothing at present. If, hereafter, you

find yourself in trouble or difficulty, and have need of me, I shall not

be so far off as not to be within call. Clap your hands thrice, and I

will speedily be at your side.”

There were some things in this speech which the Prince did not like, and

others which he did not understand. But he felt that, at any rate, the

old man’s intentions towards him were kind, and, therefore, he was about

to express his thanks; but, as he turned to do so, the aged stranger had

vanished.

“Ehem!” said the little Sprite, resolved to gain the Prince’s attention

at last; “did your royal highness speak? Perhaps you wished that that

venerable gentleman should be called back; shall I run after him, and

endeavour to find him?”

“Why, no,” replied the Prince, with a little hesitation, “it is

unnecessary; but perhaps you can do me the favour of informing me who he

is?”

“He was an entire stranger to your royal highness, was he?”

“Yes,” answered the Hope of the Katzekopfs, “I am pretty sure I never

saw him before.”

“Just what I apprehended,” observed the Sprite; “he is an old fellow of

the most insufferable presumption; one who is continually endeavouring

to obtrude himself into the best society; and if by any chance accident

he gets admission therein, he is sure to meddle with matters that don’t

concern him, to volunteer advice when nobody wishes for it, and to throw

a restraint and gloom over any company into which he is allowed to

enter.”

“His name?” inquired the Prince.

“Ah,” responded his companion, “it has escaped me; but I shall recall it

presently. Meanwhile, allow me to tender my own allegiance, and to

assure you that if you should so far condescend as to choose me for the

companion of your leisure, your royal highness—”

“I observe that you have given me that designation very frequently,”

observed the Prince, “what reason have you for supposing it belongs to

me?”

“My Prince,” replied the Sprite; “had I never set eyes upon you till

this moment, there is that in your form and figure which could not have

failed to betray to the most unobservant that you could be sprung from

none but the very highest. You bear that in your eye, and on your brow.

But, my gracious Prince, though you see me now for the first time, you

are no stranger to me. I am of a race who walk invisible, and, if I may

be allowed to say such a thing without presumption, you have been the

object of my tender regards since the very hour of your birth. In fact,

I may say that I have never been parted from you during your whole

existence.”

“You amaze me,” said Eigenwillig; “explain, I pray you, how such a thing

can have happened without my being conscious of it.”

“I would gladly do so,” replied the Sprite; “but it is among the

mysteries which we are forbidden to reveal to mortals.”

“But may you not tell me who you are? How call they you, and what is

your name?”

“Selbst, at your service,” answered the tiny elf.

“And why have you sought me here?” asked the Prince.

“Because our interests are identical, and because the Lady Abracadabra,

being well aware of my anxiety to befriend you, permitted me to offer

myself as a companion to you on your travels.”

“You know this country then?”

“Intimately, my Prince; and I flatter myself that I am sufficiently

conversant with your tastes to be able to make myself agreeable to you,

which (I say it with all diffidence) is a great deal more than our

friend in the gray habiliments undertook for himself. I can fly, while

he can only creep. I am ready to join in any merry sport; but he seems

fit for nothing but a hermitage in a desert. I can watch over you, and

defend your interests; he, poor old gentleman, is fit for nothing but a

scarecrow.”

“Why certainly,” answered the Prince, with a smile, “there is no denying

that externals are in your favour. He looks so austere, and his dress

and appearance are so unlike those of the rest of the world, that if I

was to ask him to accompany me, every body would think I was travelling

with an old schoolmaster.”

The sprite laughed contemptuously at the notion of the Hope of the

Katzekopfs being so attended. And that laugh settled the matter, for the

Prince was not accustomed to be laughed at, and the thought of appearing

ridiculous to anybody was what his pride would not brook for a moment.

So he said, “Well, Selbst, I fix my choice on you. Will you be my

companion?”

“With the greatest pleasure imaginable, my gracious Prince, if you will

grant me one condition.”

“And what will that be?”

“Oh, it is by no means an onerous one,” replied Selbst. “My limbs,

though active, are so slight, that I am a bad walker, and soon wearied.

Have you any objection to taking me on your back. I am as light as a

feather.”

“None in the world,” answered Eigenwillig, “I can stow you away in my

pocket if you like it. Come, jump up.”

The sprite waited for no second bidding.

“You’re heavier than I expected,” exclaimed the Hope of the Katzekopfs

in some surprise.

“You’ll soon get used to it,” returned Master Selbst, in the most

nonchalant tone imaginable. “Thank you, I’m quite comfortable now,” he

continued, clasping his arms round the Prince’s neck.

“Why, Sprite, Sprite, how have you contrived to make your hands reach in

front of my neck? A moment ago, and your arms scarce seemed two inches

long?”

“Oh, I’m obliged to stretch them to the utmost; but I’m comfortable

now,” replied the Sprite with an air of great self-satisfaction.

“Yes, but you are throttling me,” said the Prince, “unclasp your

fingers.”

“No, I can’t do that, my Prince: you’ll soon get used to the pressure;

and I am sure you would not wish me to be uncomfortable.”

“Let go your hold, I say,” cried the Prince angrily, “you are

suffocating me;” and he endeavoured to unloose the tiny fingers which

clutched round his throat. The sprite only increased his pressure.

“I shall be strangled,” cried the Prince, gasping for breath.

“Oh no, you won’t,” replied Selbst; “do not struggle, and you will be as

comfortable as I am directly. Why should not we both be comfortable? It

is useless to writhe about in that way, my Prince. See, it forces me to

drive my knees into your side.”

And suiting the action to the word, the sprite contrived to shoot down

those knees which, but a minute before, were so tiny as to be scarce

perceptible, and to give them a very firm hold on the Prince’s ribs.

Now, if Prince Eigenwillig had only possessed the courage and resolution

to have continued the struggle, and had remembered to have called the

old man to his aid, he would have been able to master Selbst, to shake

him off, and prevent him from gaining the upper hand. To be sure it was

a grievous oversight to have allowed such a mischievous-looking elf to

get upon his back at all; but for this there was now no help; the only

question was, how to get rid of him. If the Prince had given himself

time for consideration, it might have occurred to him as probable that

such a boastful little creature, as Selbst had already shown himself to

be, was not likely to have much resolution about him when fairly

encountered. Selbst, in fact, was little better than a cowardly bully,

full of presumption and bravado, who was in the habit of endeavouring to

carry matters with a high hand, by using great swelling words, and who,

when persons yielded to him, tyrannized over them more and more, the

more they yielded. But though there was a good deal of obstinacy and

importunity in his character, he was very mean and pitiful when he met

with a determined opponent.

Unhappily for himself, Prince Eigenwillig was soon cowed. When he found

that he could not shake off the sprite at once, his heart failed him,

and he thought within himself that, having given Selbst such an

advantage over him, there was no help for it, and he must e’en make the

best bargain he could for himself.

“There!” cried the Sprite, as, breathless and exhausted, Prince

Eigenwillig desisted from further efforts to free himself, “There! now I

hope you will be satisfied. It is no use struggling with me. I am sure

to carry the day. So, that point being settled, we shall be good friends

directly, and I will see if I cannot make my weight less of an

incumbrance to you.”

This was said so pleasantly that the Prince felt disposed to be

appeased; and being immediately followed up by an effort on Selbst’s

part to sit more lightly, and by an apparent relaxation of his hold, the

royal traveller became much better reconciled to his companion, and

proceeded cheerfully on his way, Selbst directing him as to the route

which would prove most agreeable, and beguiling the path with narrative

and song.

They had not gone far together before the Prince became so well used to

his burden, that he would have disliked the thought of being released

from it. He ceased to find it troublesome, and grew so intimate with

Selbst, that he felt as if he must needs consult him, and take his

opinion upon every thing, and that there would be no getting on without

him.

This was precisely the object at which the sprite was aiming: he desired

to make the Prince wholly subservient to him, but he did not choose that

his victim should become aware of the extent to which he was enslaved,

and therefore he contrived to appear to submit, when, in fact, he was

dictating.

The Hope of the Katzekopfs was travelling with the object of seeing all

that was most remarkable in Fairy-land, and he had been particularly

anxious to witness the process by which dew-drops were crystallized into

diamonds, and also to learn the method by which sunbeams can be

extracted from cucumbers. Remembering how much his mother was apt to

suffer from cold in the winter season, he felt desirous to be able to

carry home a recipe which might materially increase her comforts, and

also, being aware of her strong penchant for diamonds, he affectionately

proposed to himself to acquire the secret by which diamonds could be

made as plentiful as blackberries.

The sprite made no sort of opposition to the Prince’s proposal that they

should visit these manufactories; but, while secretly resolving that he

should see neither, this sly elf affected to give his cordial consent to

the scheme. However, what with enlarging on the length of the journey,

and the difficulties to be encountered, he contrived so effectually,

though so skilfully, to work on the Prince, that his royal highness gave

up the scheme in the full belief that the change of plan originated in

himself, and that it was owing to himself only, that the evening found

them in the self-same spot from which they had started in the morning.

Throughout the course of his long day’s walk, the Prince had been

carrying Selbst on his back, and very much surprised he felt that the

sprite had never offered to get down, and allow the Prince to rest

himself. But no: no such thought ever seemed to enter his mind; he

pointed out the road, complained, now and then, of the roughness of the

ways, and expressed his own great satisfaction at finding himself in

such a comfortable position; but he evidently thought of nobody but

himself. If the wallet of provisions was opened, Selbst, while appearing

anxious that the Prince should take refreshment, contrived to lay his

own hands on the delicacies which were choicest: if the flask of wine

was produced, Selbst drained it all but a few drops. And what was

stranger still, even the little which the Prince secured seemed of no

service to him, it appeared to refresh the sprite, and not himself; he

continued as hungry and thirsty as if neither victuals nor drink had

entered his mouth. And yet, all the while, Selbst talked so pleasantly,

and was so amusing, and there was so little appearance of intentional

greediness or ill-breeding in his manner, that the Prince did not feel

that he had any cause of complaint.

But as he continued plodding on his way, wondering why it was that his

food did him so little good, a circumstance occurred which afforded him

a probable, though certainly a very strange explanation of his

difficulty. Happening, while the sun was shining brightly, to catch a

glimpse of his own shadow on an opposite rock, he perceived that Selbst

had increased in bulk to such a degree that, instead of being any longer

a span high, he was now larger than the Prince himself. By some

mysterious process he was not only absorbing all the nourishment in the

Prince’s body, but was intercepting, as it were, the supplies on which

existence depended.

No wonder the Hope of the Katzekopfs felt low and sinking.

“Why, Selbst,” exclaimed he, “how enormously you are increased in size,

since you mounted on my shoulders! I shall never be able to carry you.”

“Go on, go on,” answered the sprite. “I am quite comfortable. I dare say

you will do very well.”

The Prince was very much alarmed when he perceived that Selbst was

growing so rapidly, and that all the sustenance which he himself took

was turning to his companion’s nutriment. But the excitement and alarm

passed off almost immediately; somehow or other he got reconciled to the

state of things, and grew quite apathetical about it. If he felt any

increase of weight on his shoulders, he speedily became indifferent to

it, and he even ceased to wonder that his food seemed to do him no good.

Thus they went on roaming about, with no particular object in view;

Selbst directing the Prince to go in this direction or that, as the

fancy happened to take him, and the Prince obeying implicitly, in a sort

of listless, unresisting manner.

“Go to yonder fountain,” said the sprite, after they had journeyed some

hours longer. “Your body is so warm it quite heats and fatigues me. Why

don’t you keep yourself cool?”

“How can I,” asked the Prince, “under such a broiling sun, and with you

on my back? I wish you would get down for a little while.”

“No indeed,” answered the sprite, “I shall do nothing of the kind. I am

quite comfortable, all except the heat, and I shall be cooler when you

have stood a little while in the fountain.”

“Oh, Selbst, surely you forget how hot _I_ am: to stand in a fountain

would kill me.”

“And what does that matter to me, so long as I can keep myself

comfortable? I am master now, and intend to remain so.”

“Master!” exclaimed Prince Eigenwillig, his natural disposition breaking

out for a moment, “Tyrant, you mean.”

“Well, tyrant, if you like,” said the sprite. “Call me what you please,

I care not; only do what I tell you. Go into the fountain.”

The Prince groaned, but obeyed mechanically, for resistance seemed to be

useless; but when he approached the water’s edge, he saw a sight

reflected on its glassy surface which made him start back. Selbst had

become double the size which he was when the Prince had seen his shadow

on the rock.

“What’s the matter? why don’t you go in?” cried the sprite impatiently.

Fear, and the strong impulse of self-preservation now aided the unhappy

victim, and he replied, “Look at your own reflection in the water. How

can you expect me who am but half your size, to carry you in there? Your

weight is enough to drown me.”

“Do as you are bid, slave!” cried the sprite angrily, giving the boy a

violent kick in the side. Hitherto he had contrived to keep his limbs

out of the Prince’s sight, but Eigenwillig had now the opportunity of

observing that his tormentor’s foot was the size of that of a full-grown

man.

“You may drag me into the water if you will: you are stronger than I am,

and I can’t help myself, but go, of my own free will, I won’t.”

The Prince spoke these words in a tone of resolute determination, and

the sprite seemed to hesitate for a moment what he would do; but his

mind was soon made up, for he gave the boy another kick, and much more

severe than the first. It quite took the Prince’s breath away, and he

was very near falling.

“If you kick me in that manner,” said he, “you will break my ribs, and

then I shall be unable to carry you at all.”

“Go into the water, slave, or it will be the worse for you!” rejoined

Selbst, and tried to force him forward. The Prince threw his arms round

a young tree, and clung to it with all his strength.

“You’re as obstinate as a pig,” exclaimed the sprite, “and I have a

great mind to throw you into the water, and hold you there till you are

drowned,—only I don’t choose to make myself hotter than I am already.”

Thus he yielded the point, and proved himself a mere blustering bully.

As for the Prince, he was so amazed and confounded at so unexpected a

change, that he was unable to avail himself of his own victory. Had he

been sufficiently self-possessed, he would have reflected that now was

the time to follow up his advantage, and never to rest till he had

shaken off his troublesome companion. But the boy had been so cowed and

alarmed at the sight of the prodigious size of his adversary, that he

felt it would be hopeless to prolong the struggle,—that he must be

worsted,—and so he hesitated and lost heart, at the very moment when

Selbst was beginning to fear that his tyranny was at an end.

He, the crafty elf! had no lack of self-possession; and so, though

foiled in his object, he contrived to make it seem as if his yielding

was rather the result of good-nature than necessity, whereby he hoped

that, before long, he should reduce the unfortunate Prince to his former

condition of listless docility.

But if young Eigenwillig had not yet acquired sufficient resolution to

enter on a further struggle with his oppressor, he was no longer

inclined to look on him in the light of an agreeable companion. He had

now learned the falseness and hollowness of his professions; he began to

see through his artifices; he was no longer unconscious of his unwieldy

size; he had contrived to catch a glimpse of his features, and to see

that they were hideous and ape-like, and to perceive that his very

breath was loathsome and pestilential.

And this was a great point gained, though much more remained behind to

be accomplished. It set the Prince upon reflecting on the Lady

Abracadabra’s last words to him, and on the ill-considered haste of his

recent decision.

But why did he not summon to his aid the venerable stranger who had

first appeared to him, and who had promised to be close at hand to help

him?

It is not difficult to find an answer to this inquiry. Greatly as Prince

Eigenwillig had been improved by his recent trials, he had a good deal

of false pride still hanging about him, which disinclined him to own

himself in the wrong; and then, though the old man had been so kind to

him, it is sometimes difficult to get over first impressions, and the

stern, austere countenance, and grave manners of that venerable person,

rendered him unattractive. The Prince was afraid of him, and he felt as

if he could not make a friend of any one of whom he stood in awe. Still

he had grateful feelings towards the grey-robed stranger, and desired to

have an opportunity of seeing more of him.

Moreover, he had a secret conviction that the old man was the only

person who could protect him against the tyranny of Selbst, and he

determined upon any fresh act of tyranny, to call the old man to his

aid.

It was not long before his resolution was put to the test.

Though Selbst, like a cowardly bully, had given way when he found he was

manfully resisted, and though, like a cunning knave, he had endeavoured

to make his defeat appear like a voluntary concession, still he was too

fond of having his own way, and of domineering upon all occasions, to go

on for long without further exasperating his victim against him.

When he yielded the point upon the fountain, he commanded the Prince to

carry him to the top of a hill at some distance; the air, he said, would

be less hot and oppressive there than in the valley. This was his

nominal reason; his real object was to punish the Prince, by wearing him

out with fatigue and exhaustion.

The Prince, bending under his burden, accordingly set forth towards the

hill; but he had now been on foot many hours, and every step he took,

Selbst seemed to grow heavier and heavier; however, he contrived, though

very weary and breathless, to reach the bottom of the hill; but there he

stopped.

“Prithee, Selbst,” said he, “let us rest awhile.”

“Rest forsooth!” cried the sprite in a tone of surprise, “what should we

rest for? I am quite comfortable. I am not at all tired.”

“Likely enough!” replied the Prince, “for you have not walked a step all

day. But I, who have had to carry you, am quite tired out; so rest I

must.”

“Get to the top of the hill first, then,” answered Selbst. The Prince,

dispirited and unwilling to begin a fresh contest, made an effort to

ascend the precipitous bank; but he had not gone many yards before he

stumbled and fell. Nor was it a simple fall; for he continued rolling

over the sharp stones, Selbst and all, till he reached the bottom of the

hill.

He was not much hurt himself; but Selbst was a good deal scratched and

bruised. This misfortune, however, as might be expected, threw the

sprite into a great rage. He abused the Prince, called him all manner of

evil names, declared that he had fallen on purpose, and ended by

bestowing on him a shower of blows.

“Get up again, you idle hound,” cried he, “and mount the hill directly.

I’ll soon teach you who is master.”

“Indeed I would get up if I could,” said the Prince, “but you know,

Selbst, how weary I am.”

“Get up, or I’ll strangle you,” screamed the malicious sprite,

tightening his hold round the Prince’s neck.

The poor boy made an effort to get up, but fell backwards. Harder and

harder, tighter and tighter, grew the grasp upon his throat. His

eyeballs seemed ready to start from his head; his ears were tingling and

his veins swelling through the impeded circulation of the blood. He

struggled, but his struggles were powerless; he endeavoured to shriek

for help; but a gasping, gurgling sound was all that proceeded from his

lips. In another minute he would have been strangled. Hitherto his hands

had been employed in vain endeavours to wrest the sprite’s fingers from

his throat; on a sudden, however, he looses them, and leaving his

adversary to do his worst, claps his hands once—twice.

Selbst sees his object, and looses his hold round the boy’s neck, in

order to secure his hands, and prevent his making the signal a third

time.

The relaxing of the monster’s grasp enables Prince Eigenwillig to draw

his breath, and with his returning breath, returns, in some measure at

least, his strength. It is a struggle for life or death; long it

continues. Longer far than could have been expected from the exhausted

powers of the boy. But in his struggles lay the secret of his strength.

The more he struggled, the stronger he became, and the weaker waxed his

adversary, and not only weaker, but smaller. He shrank and shrank at

each fresh effort of the Prince to master him, till from the size of a

full-grown man, he became no bigger than a dwarf.

Who could fail to be encouraged to persevere in such a contest? Each

effort of the Prince became more vigorous and effectual, till, at

length, after a violent exertion, he contrived to liberate both hands,

and, for the third time, made the required signal. The sprite no sooner

heard the sound, than he howled like a maniac, and gnashed his teeth

with disappointed rage.

The Prince had scarcely clapped his hands for the third time, when there

seemed a change in the appearance of the air before him, as when a

shadow is cast: and then the shadow assumed the form and consistency, as

it were, of a thin vapour; and the vapour thickened and thickened till

it became a dense grey cloud; and the outline of the cloud grew sharper

and more defined, till the form of the old man with his white hairs and

flowing beard, and long sombre robes, were developed, and Prince

Eigenwillig saw before him the companion he had rejected, and whose aid

had now come so opportunely.

“Well, my son,” said the old man, “you are now able to judge who was

your truest friend; he who made few promises, and kept them; or he, who

after multiplied professions of regard, has made you first his slave,

and who then nearly destroyed you.”

No sooner had the old man begun to speak, than Selbst shuddered from

head to foot, and ceased to struggle with the Prince, who now, breathing

freely once more, looked up timidly at the old man, expecting to see

nothing but severity depicted on his countenance. How was he surprised!

Gravity, indeed, there was in the old man’s face and manner; but all

sternness had passed from his eyes, and a smile of the utmost gentleness

and benignity lit up his features.

“Oh, my kind friend and protector!” exclaimed the Prince, “how little

have I deserved such a timely interference from you,—_you_ whom I

treated so unthankfully and ungraciously!”

“If you _be_ grateful, as you intimate you are,” replied the old man,

“give me now the proof of it by following my advice.”

“Advise me, father,” said the boy, “and you shall judge whether or no I

be grateful.”

“My son, you know not yet to what you may be pledging yourself. My terms

are hard,—my conditions difficult to be fulfilled.”

“I will not shrink from the hardest,” exclaimed the Prince with fervour,

“if you will but free me from this clinging reptile. Command him to

loose his hold.”

“Ha! ha!” cried the sprite in a mocking, gibing tone, “there go two

words to that bargain. Old greybeard may command if he pleases, and as

long as he pleases, but he cannot force me to obey.”

“It is even so, my son,” observed the old man, “I cannot compel him;

nay, I can be of no service at all, without your hearty cooperation.

And, even then, the most I can do for you will be to show you how to

treat him; so that, for his own sake, he will be glad to quit you.”

“Oh, good Father, prithee teach me how to gain the mastery over him!”

“STARVE him, and CONTRADICT him continually,” said the old man; “keep

him from every kind of food—from all that can, in any way, nourish him.

And so soon as ever you ascertain what his wishes are—be the subject

what it may—make it your rule to do the reverse. Follow this plan, and

he will soon be your slave; you will be no longer his. My long

experience enables me to pledge myself to this.”

“Then others, father, besides myself, have been exposed to his malignant

influence; and you have befriended others as well as me!”

“My son, none ever mastered that odious sprite, but he received

assistance from me. It is only by the aid of DISCIPLINE that any one can

hope to conquer SELF!”

Then the Prince knew the old man’s name, and he ceased to wonder why he

had been so unwilling, on a former occasion, to make it known; for it

has a stern, repulsive sound in it, which is sure to disgust the

thoughtless and the pleasure-seeking.

“Father,” said the Prince, “if thy name be Discipline, then will I be

thy Disciple. Had I known thee sooner, from what faults and errors

should I have been saved! If thou hadst but taken a part in the

education of my earliest years, how different should I now be from what,

alas! I am.”

“Prince,” replied his venerable friend, “heretofore you have been

greatly to be pitied, for you have deserved, as well as possessed, the

name of Self-willed. But sharp trials have brought you to your senses,

and I trust that you have already laid the foundations of a character in

which shall be united all the best qualities of your race. But you have

still an arduous task before you, and your first and most pressing duty

is, to effect the entire subjugation of that hateful sprite whom I still

see clinging to you.”

“Father,” said the Prince, “will you now be my companion, and will you

advise and help me to master Selbst!”

“That will I gladly, my child,” answered Discipline, and forthwith they

wended on their way.

Steep, and rugged, and narrow was the route: now among tangled thickets

of thorns and briers, now over parched and arid sands, now in a waste

and howling wilderness. Often, when the Prince was most hungry and

thirsty, did Discipline enjoin him to go without food or drink, or, just

as he was about to partake of them, to give them to some wayfarer on the

road. Often, when most weary, was he advised to pass the night in

watching. Often, when he desired to go one way, was he recommended to

pursue another.

Now all this was done in order to master Selbst, and make him glad to

relax his hold, and quit a companion who would give him nothing to eat,

and who led him through thorns and briers for the purpose of wounding

and hurting him.

And all this Prince Eigenwillig continued to do day after day, and still

he found the wisdom of those oft repeated sayings of his aged companion:

“=Learn to live hardly=; =Deny yourself in things lawful=; =Love not

comforts=; =Think of others first=, =and of yourself last=.” And thus,

when they drew near to their journey’s end, and the palace of the Lady

Abracadabra was in sight, the sprite Selbst, who had exercised such

tyranny over the little boy, was no longer to be seen. For some

time,—much longer than the sanguine Prince had expected,—for it was when

Discipline had been for some time his companion, he continued to feel

inconvenience from the presence of the malicious elf. But in due time,

_starving_ and _contradiction_ did their promised work. The evil

creature dwindled, and withered, and shrank, till at length, from sheer

weakness and exhaustion, he relaxed his hold round the Prince’s throat,

and fell to the ground.

The Prince himself was not aware of the precise moment when this event

took place, and Discipline did not think good to make him acquainted

with it immediately. And even when he made the circumstance known, he

accompanied it with a word of caution.

“Prince,” said he, “you are released from the grasp of your adversary.

He has fallen to the ground, mastered by your perseverance and

resolution. But I entreat you bear this in mind, that, though invisible,

he still runs at your side; and if ever you give him opportunity or

encouragement, he will yet again be your master!”

They had now reached the palace of the Lady Abracadabra, and as they

stood before its portals, the Fairy godmother came out to receive them.

Once more she was radiant with smiles; the flame-coloured petticoat had

faded into the palest primrose, and instead of seeming haggard and

wrinkled, her complexion had that dazzling lustre which is peculiar to

Fairy-land. She threw her arms round her godson and embraced him with

tenderness.

“I have been a secret witness,” she said, “of all your trials and

struggles. I have watched your endeavours to rid yourself of your

selfish, and self-willed habits, and being satisfied of the pains you

have taken, and are taking with yourself, I am not afraid to restore you

to your family. The Court of King Katzekopf is not a wholesome

atmosphere for you; but every place has its trials, and I am satisfied

that you will profit by your past experience.”

“Lady,” replied the Prince, “the time has been that I have feared you,

and even hated you; but I now know how much I owe to you. You have

taught me that the secret of happiness is in myself, and that I am most

happy when I am showing most consideration to others. I hope, dear Lady,

that now you are about to send me home, you will not cease to befriend

me, and that this venerable man may accompany me to the upper world.”

“Follow the rules he has given you here, and you will not need his

bodily presence. They that dwell in kings’ houses, and the rich, and the

indolent, and the lovers of comforts, bear a deadly hatred to him, and

therefore he is not wont to expose himself to their insults. You,

however, he has adopted as one of his children, and so long as you do

not forget him, he will not forget you. For myself, you may count on my

protection. If I loved you because I saw the elements of good in you,

when I brought you into this country seven years ago, how much more do I

love you now, when I have witnessed your endeavours to become master of

yourself.”

“_Seven years ago!_” These were almost the only words in the sentence

which the Prince heard. Why, the time he had spent in Fairy-land seemed

hardly as many days. But so it was; and when he came to reflect, he

remembered to have heard, over and over again, that nobody who enters

Fairy-land is allowed to return under seven years.

So it was; and when he arrived at his father’s court (where he found

himself already expected; for, little as Queen Ninnilinda deserved it,

the Lady Abracadabra had never kept her in ignorance about her son’s

place of abode, and general well-doing,)—when he arrived at his father’s

court, he saw changes which soon satisfied him that a long period had

elapsed since he had quitted it. King Katzekopf had become quite

childish, and Queen Ninnilinda was so occupied with her lap-dogs and

parrots, that, though very glad to see her son, she was not likely to

spoil him again. The Baroness Yellowlily was dead, and the Ladies

Rigida, Frigida, and Brigida had quitted the court for scenes more

congenial to their taste.

But the greatest surprise of all to Prince Eigenwillig, was to hear

himself spoken to as if he were almost a young man. It seemed but the

other day, since he was a little naughty child, and now grave

counsellors were discussing the propriety of appointing him Regent of

the kingdom, and easing poor old King Katzekopf’s shoulders from the

burden and cares of state.

Prince Eigenwillig had, however, too much distrust of himself, and felt

the responsibilities of the position too deeply to desire such a charge;

but when he saw that the welfare of the nation in a great measure

depended on it, and found that the Lady Abracadabra heartily approved of

it, he consented to become Regent.

And his first act, when he assumed the office, was to write an

affectionate letter to Witikind, intreating him to forgive him his past

misconduct, and come and give him his assistance in ruling the country.

Count Rudolf had been dead some years, and Witikind was in possession of

his father’s estates, and he found such abundant scope for the best

energies of his mind in contributing to the welfare of his neighbours

and vassals, that he could not (especially after his past experience,)

make up his mind to quit his beloved Taubennest for a court. So he

declined the Prince’s offer of place and power; but was, through life,

his sound adviser and faithful friend.

As for the Prince, though he could not shake off the _name_ of

Eigenwillig, he entirely ceased to be the _thing_: in a few years he

became king in his father’s place; reigned long and happily; ruled his

subjects well; his family better still; and himself best of all: so that

his name was cherished in his native land long after his bones were

mouldering in the grave; and it is mentioned in the Chronicles of

Carivaldus of Cologne, that he whose real name was Eigenwillig, and who

for some years of his life was called the Hope of the Katzekopfs, is now

only remembered by that name which the universal consent of his

countrymen assigned him while still living, and that his designation in

the annals of Christendom is that of King Katzekopf _the GOOD_.

_And so my Story ends._

[Illustration: L’Envoy.]

“If we shadows have offended,

Think but this, (and all is mended,)

Think you have but slumber’d here,

While these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme,

No more yielding but a dream;

Gentles, do not reprehend,

If you pardon, we will mend.”

J. MASTERS, PRINTER, ALDERSGATE STREET.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

_By the same Author._

_In square 16mo., with bordered pages, and Frontispiece from

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THE CHRISTIAN’S DAY, Price 3s. 6d.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. On the Necessity of a Prescribed Rule of Daily Life.

II. Of Walking in the Fear of God all the Day long.

III. The Christian’s Daily Rule.

IV. The Christian’s Daily Rule continued.

V. The Christian’s Rule with respect to the Vigils and Fasts of

the Church.

VI. The Christian’s Rule with respect to the Festivals of the

Church.

VII. The Christian Learning to Number his Days.

THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. Practical Sermons on the Burial Service,

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The Juvenile Englishman’s Library.

EDITED BY THE

REV. JOHN FULLER RUSSELL, B.C.L.,

INCUMBENT OF S. JAMES’S, ENFIELD.

Under this title a Series of Works has been published, which,

while maintaining the same principles as those of the popular

collection, entitled “The Englishman’s Library,” are adapted to a

younger class of readers. The original Proprietor having

transferred his interest in the Series to another Publisher, and a

previous change of Editorship having also taken place, it is

thought desirable to announce to the Subscribers that, in the

future volumes, the same principles will be strictly adhered to,

which have obtained for “The Library” so much favour. It will be

the aim of the present Editor to put forth such Works only as

shall tend to develope with simplicity and integrity the youthful

English Churchman’s character; and he is happy in being able to

state that he has succeeded in retaining the valuable assistance

of several of the former Contributors (Including the late

respected Editor), and also in securing the aid of others in all

respects qualified for such an undertaking.

I. TALES of the VILLAGE CHILDREN. By the Rev. F. E. PAGET. First

Series, Including “The Singers,” “The Wake,” “The Bonfire,”

“Beating the Bounds,” “Hallowmas Eve,” and “A Sunday Walk and a

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in cloth, 2s. 6d.

⁂ For School Rewards, &c., the Tales may be had in a packet, sorted,

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II. THE HOPE of the KATZEKOPFS. A Fairy Tale. Illustrated by Scott.

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Rev. F. E. PAGET.

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cloth, 2s.

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Franklin. Cloth, 1s. 6d.

V. TALES of the VILLAGE CHILDREN. By the Rev. F. E. PAGET. Second

Series. New Edition. With cuts, cloth, 2s. 6d.

VI. THE TRIUMPHS of the CROSS. Tales and Sketches of Christian

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VII. EARLY FRIENDSHIP; or, the Two Catechumens. Cloth, price 1s. 6d.

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X. LUKE SHARP. A Tale illustrative of the effect of Knowledge

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XI. A HISTORY OF ENGLAND, from the Invasion of the Romans, to the

Accession of Queen Victoria. _A New Edition, Revised_. Price 2s.

6d.

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nursery and school-room of those odious compilations that at

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are fraught with eminent danger to the moral rectitude of those

who read them.”—_Ecclesiastic_, Feb. 1846.

XII. LAYS OF FAITH AND LOYALTY. By the Ven. Archdeacon CHURTON,

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XIII. TRIUMPHS OF THE CROSS. Part II. CHRISTIAN ENDURANCE. By the

Rev. J. M. NEALE, M.A., price 2s. 6d.

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HEROISM, and a charming little volume it is.... We do think that

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especially, of this series is very considerable.”—_Ecclesiastic_,

June, 1846.

XIV. A SCHOOL GEOGRAPHY. Carefully compiled; including the Latest

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of Modern Geography,’ which appears to us far superior to any

manual of the kind yet in existence.”—Ecclesiastic, Sept. 1846.

XV. COLTON GREEN. A Tale of the Black Country. By the Rev. WILLIAM

GRESLEY. Price 2s. 6d.

XVI. A HISTORY OF PORTUGAL from its erection into a separate kingdom

to the year 1836. Price 2s. 6d.

XVII. POYNINGS. A Tale of the Revolution.

The following are in preparation, and nearly ready:

A LIFE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. By the Editor.

A HISTORY OF SPAIN. By the Rev. BENNETT G. JOHNS, S. Mark’s College,

Chelsea.

A HISTORY OF FRANCE. By the Rev. JOSEPH HASKOLL, B.A.

A HISTORY OF GERMANY. By the Rev. A. J. HOWELL, M.A.

A HISTORY OF HOLLAND. By the E. H. LANDON, M.A.

A HISTORY OF GREECE. By the Rev. J. M. NEALE, M.A.

A HISTORY OF ROME. By the Rev. SAMUEL FOX, M.A., F.S.A.

STORIES FROM HEATHEN MYTHOLOGY, for the Use of Christian Children.

THE MANGER OF THE HOLY NIGHT, with other Tales. From the German of

Guido Gorres. By C. E. H., Morwenstow.

LONDON: J. MASTERS. J. BURNS.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Changed all instances of 'Shakspere' to 'Shakespeare'. There was

originally one 'Shakespeare' in the book.

2. Silently corrected typographical errors.

3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.

4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.

5. Enclosed bold font in =equals=.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Hope of the Katzekopfs, by Francis Edward Paget