THE apples and nuts went round again and again, and for a few minutes
nothing was heard save the cracking of shells and the gnawing of sharp
white teeth. At length the parrot said, meditatively:--
"That was a very stupid cow, though! Are all cows as stupid as that?"
"Well, I don't think they are what you would call brilliant, as a rule,"
Toto admitted; "but they are generally good, and that is better."
"Hem! possibly!" said Miss Mary, dryly. "That is probably why we have no
cows in Central Africa. Our animals being all, without exception, clever
_and_ good, there is really no place for creatures of the sort you
describe."
"How about the bogghun, Miss Mary?" asked the raccoon, slyly, with a
wink at Toto.
The parrot ruffled up her feathers, and was about to make a sharp reply;
but suddenly remembering the raccoon's brave defence of her an hour
before, she smoothed her plumage again, and replied gently,--
"I confess that I forgot the bogghun, Coon. It is indeed a treacherous
and a wicked creature!--a dark blot on the golden roll of African
animals." She paused and sighed, then added, as if to change the
subject, "But, come! is it too late to have another story? If not, I
have a short one in mind, which I will tell you, if you wish."
All assented joyfully, and Miss Mary, without more delay, related the
story of
THE THREE REMARKS.
There was once a princess, the most beautiful princess that ever was
seen. Her hair was black and soft as the raven's wing [here the Crow
blinked, stood on one leg and plumed himself, evidently highly
flattered by the allusion]; her eyes were like stars dropped in a pool
of clear water, and her speech like the first tinkling cascade of the
baby Nile. She was also wise, graceful, and gentle, so that one would
have thought she must be the happiest princess in the world.
But, alas! there was one terrible drawback to her happiness. She could
make only three remarks. No one knew whether it was the fault of her
nurse, or a peculiarity born with her; but the sad fact remained, that
no matter what was said to her, she could only reply in one of three
phrases. The first was,--
"What is the price of butter?"
The second, "Has your grandmother sold her mangle yet?"
And the third, "With all my heart!"
You may well imagine what a great misfortune this was to a young and
lively princess. How could she join in the sports and dances of the
noble youths and maidens of the court? She could not always be silent,
neither could she always say, "With all my heart!" though this was her
favorite phrase, and she used it whenever she possibly could; and it was
not at all pleasant, when some gallant knight asked her whether she
would rather play croquet or Aunt Sally, to be obliged to reply, "What
is the price of butter?"
On certain occasions, however, the princess actually found her infirmity
of service to her. She could always put an end suddenly to any
conversation that did not please her, by interposing with her first or
second remark; and they were also a very great assistance to her when,
as happened nearly every day, she received an offer of marriage.
Emperors, kings, princes, dukes, earls, marquises, viscounts, baronets,
and many other lofty personages knelt at her feet, and offered her their
hands, hearts, and other possessions of greater or less value. But for
all her suitors the princess had but one answer. Fixing her deep radiant
eyes on them, she would reply with thrilling earnestness, "_Has_ your
grandmother sold her mangle yet?" and this always impressed the suitors
so deeply that they retired weeping to a neighboring monastery, where
they hung up their armor in the chapel, and taking the vows, passed the
remainder of their lives mostly in flogging themselves, wearing hair
shirts, and putting dry toast-crumbs in their beds.
Now, when the king found that all his best nobles were turning into
monks, he was greatly displeased, and said to the princess:--
"My daughter, it is high time that all this nonsense came to an end. The
next time a respectable person asks you to marry him, you will say,
'With all my heart!' or I will know the reason why."
But this the princess could not endure, for she had never yet seen a man
whom she was willing to marry. Nevertheless, she feared her father's
anger, for she knew that he always kept his word; so that very night she
slipped down the back stairs of the palace, opened the back door, and
ran away out into the wide world.
She wandered for many days, over mountain and moor, through fen and
through forest, until she came to a fair city. Here all the bells were
ringing, and the people shouting and flinging caps into the air; for
their old king was dead, and they were just about to crown a new one.
The new king was a stranger, who had come to the town only the day
before; but as soon as he heard of the old monarch's death, he told the
people that he was a king himself, and as he happened to be without a
kingdom at that moment, he would be quite willing to rule over them. The
people joyfully assented, for the late king had left no heir; and now
all the preparations had been completed. The crown had been polished up,
and a new tip put on the sceptre, as the old king had quite spoiled it
by poking the fire with it for upwards of forty years.
When the people saw the beautiful princess, they welcomed her with many
bows, and insisted on leading her before the new king.
"Who knows but that they may be related?" said everybody. "They both
came from the same direction, and both are strangers."
Accordingly the princess was led to the market-place, where the king was
sitting in royal state. He had a fat, red, shining face, and did not
look like the kings whom she had been in the habit of seeing; but
nevertheless the princess made a graceful courtesy, and then waited to
hear what he would say.
The new king seemed rather embarrassed when he saw that it was a
princess who appeared before him; but he smiled graciously, and said, in
a smooth oily voice,--
"I trust your 'Ighness is quite well. And 'ow did yer 'Ighness leave yer
pa and ma?"
At these words the princess raised her head and looked fixedly at the
red-faced king; then she replied, with scornful distinctness,--
"What is the price of butter?"
At these words an alarming change came over the king's face. The red
faded from it, and left it a livid green; his teeth chattered; his eyes
stared, and rolled in their sockets; while the sceptre dropped from his
trembling hand and fell at the princess's feet. For the truth was, this
was no king at all, but a retired butterman, who had laid by a little
money at his trade, and had thought of setting up a public house; but
chancing to pass through this city at the very time when they were
looking for a king, it struck him that he might just as well fill the
vacant place as any one else. No one had thought of his being an
impostor; but when the princess fixed her clear eyes on him and asked
him that familiar question, which he had been in the habit of hearing
many times a day for a great part of his life, the guilty butterman
thought himself detected, and shook in his guilty shoes. Hastily
descending from his throne, he beckoned he princess into a side-chamber,
and closing the door, besought her in moving terms not to betray him.
"Here," he said, "is a bag of rubies as big as pigeon's eggs. There are
six thousand of them, and I 'umbly beg your 'Ighness to haccept them as
a slight token hof my hesteem, if your 'Ighness will kindly consent to
spare a respeckable tradesman the disgrace of being hexposed."
The princess reflected, and came to the conclusion that, after all, a
butterman might make as good a king as any one else; so she took the
rubies with a gracious little nod, and departed, while all the people
shouted, "Hooray!" and followed her, waving their hats and kerchiefs, to
the gates of the city.
With her bag of rubies over her shoulder, the fair princess now pursued
her journey, and fared forward over heath and hill, through brake and
through brier. After several days she came to a deep forest, which she
entered without hesitation, for she knew no fear. She had not gone a
hundred paces under the arching limes, when she was met by a band of
robbers, who stopped her and asked what she did in their forest, and
what she carried in her bag. They were fierce, black-bearded men, armed
to the teeth with daggers, cutlasses, pistols, dirks, hangers,
blunderbusses, and other defensive weapons; but the princess gazed
calmly on them, and said haughtily,--
"Has your grandmother sold her mangle yet?"
[Illustration: "It is true!" he gasped. "We are undone! Noble princess!"
and here he and the whole band assumed attitudes of supplication.--PAGE
195.]
The effect was magical. The robbers started back in dismay, crying, "The
countersign!" Then they hastily lowered their weapons, and assuming
attitudes of abject humility, besought the princess graciously to
accompany them to their master's presence. With a lofty gesture she
signified assent, and the cringing, trembling bandits led her on through
the forest till they reached an open glade, into which the sunbeams
glanced right merrily. Here, under a broad oak-tree which stood in the
centre of the glade, reclined a man of gigantic stature and commanding
mien, with a whole armory of weapons displayed upon his person.
Hastening to their chief, the robbers conveyed to him, in agitated
whispers, the circumstance of their meeting the princess, and of her
unexpected reply to their questions. Hardly seeming to credit their
statement, the gigantic chieftain sprang to his feet, and advancing
toward the princess with a respectful reverence, begged her to repeat
the remark which had so disturbed his men. With a royal air, and in
clear and ringing tones, the princess repeated,--
"_Has_ your grandmother sold her mangle yet?" and gazed steadfastly at
the robber chief.
He turned deadly pale, and staggered against a tree, which alone
prevented him from falling.
"It is true!" he gasped. "We are undone! The enemy is without doubt
close at hand, and all is over. Yet," he added with more firmness, and
with an appealing glance at the princess, "yet there may be one chance
left for us. If this gracious lady will consent to go forward, instead
of returning through the wood, we may yet escape with our lives. Noble
princess!" and here he and the whole band assumed attitudes of
supplication, "consider, I pray you, whether it would really add to your
happiness to betray to the advancing army a few poor foresters, who earn
their bread by the sweat of their brow. Here," he continued, hastily
drawing something from a hole in the oak-tree, "is a bag containing ten
thousand sapphires, each as large as a pullet's egg. If you will
graciously deign to accept them, and to pursue your journey in the
direction I shall indicate, the Red Chief of the Rustywhanger will be
your slave forever."
The princess, who of course knew that there was no army in the
neighborhood, and who moreover did not in the least care which way she
went, assented to the Red Chief's proposition, and taking the bag of
sapphires, bowed her farewell to the grateful robbers, and followed
their leader down a ferny path which led to the farther end of the
forest. When they came to the open country, the robber chieftain took
his leave of the princess, with profound bows and many protestations of
devotion, and returned to his band, who were already preparing to plunge
into the impenetrable thickets of the midforest.
The princess, meantime, with her two bags of gems on her shoulders,
fared forward with a light heart, by dale and by down, through moss and
through meadow. By-and-by she came to a fair high palace, built all of
marble and shining jasper, with smooth lawns about it, and sunny gardens
of roses and gillyflowers, from which the air blew so sweet that it was
a pleasure to breathe it. The princess stood still for a moment, to
taste the sweetness of this air, and to look her fill at so fair a spot;
and as she stood there, it chanced that the palace-gates opened, and the
young king rode out with his court, to go a-catching of nighthawks.
Now when the king saw a right fair princess standing alone at his
palace-gate, her rich garments dusty and travel-stained, and two heavy
sacks hung upon her shoulders, he was filled with amazement; and leaping
from his steed, like the gallant knight that he was, he besought her to
tell him whence she came and whither she was going, and in what way he
might be of service to her.
But the princess looked down at her little dusty shoes, and answered
never a word; for she had seen at the first glance how fair and goodly a
king this was, and she would not ask him the price of butter, nor
whether his grandmother had sold her mangle yet. But she thought in her
heart, "Now, I have never, in all my life, seen a man to whom I would so
willingly say, 'With all my heart!' if he should ask me to marry him."
The king marvelled much at her silence, and presently repeated his
questions, adding, "And what do you carry so carefully in those two
sacks, which seem over-heavy for your delicate shoulders?"
Still holding her eyes downcast, the princess took a ruby from one bag,
and a sapphire from the other, and in silence handed them to the king,
for she willed that he should know she was no beggar, even though her
shoes were dusty. Thereat all the nobles were filled with amazement, for
no such gems had ever been seen in that country.
But the king looked steadfastly at the princess, and said, "Rubies are
fine, and sapphires are fair; but, maiden, if I could but see those
eyes of yours, I warrant that the gems would look pale and dull beside
them."
At that the princess raised her clear dark eyes, and looked at the king
and smiled; and the glance of her eyes pierced straight to his heart, so
that he fell on his knees and cried:
"Ah! sweet princess, now do I know that thou art the love for whom I
have waited so long, and whom I have sought through so many lands. Give
me thy white hand, and tell me, either by word or by sign, that thou
wilt be my queen and my bride!"
And the princess, like a right royal maiden as she was, looked him
straight in the eyes, and giving him her little white hand, answered
bravely, "_With all my heart!_"