 CHAPTER 3 OF THE FLOWDING PRINCE AND OTHER FAIRY TAILS. THE FLOWDING PRINCE AND OTHER FAIRY TAILS by Frank R. Stockton. CHAPTER 3 THE REFORMED PIRATE. It was a very delightful country where little Coret lived. It seemed to be almost always summertime there, for the winters were just long enough to make people glad when they were over. When it rained, it mostly rained at night, and so the fields and gardens had all the water they wanted, while the people were generally quite sure of a fine day. And as they lived a great deal out of doors, this was a great advantage to them. The principal business of the people of this country was the raising of sweet margarine. The soil and climate were admirably adapted to the culture of the herb, and fields and fields of it were to be seen in every direction. At that time, and this was a good while ago, very little sweet margarine was raised in other parts of the world, so this country had the trade nearly all to itself. The great holiday of the year was the day on which the harvest of this national herb began. It was called sweet margarine day, and the people, both young and old, thought more of it than of any other holiday in the year. On that happy day everybody went out into the fields. There was never a person so old or so young or so busy that he or she could not go to help in the harvest. Even when there were sick people, which was seldom, they were carried out to the fields and stayed there all day, and they generally felt much better in the evening. There were always patches of sweet margarine planted on purpose for the very little babies to play in on the great day. They must be poor indeed, these people said, if they could not raise sweet margarine for their own needs and for exportation and yet have enough left for the babies to play in. So all this day the little youngsters rolled and tumbled and kicked and crowed in the soft green and white beds of the fragrant herb and pulled it up by the roots and laughed and chuckled, and went to sleep in it and were the happiest babies in the world. They needed no care except at dinner hour, so the rest of the people gave all their time to gathering in the crop and having fun. There was always lots of fun on this great harvest day, for everybody worked so hard that the whole crop was generally in the sweet margarine barns before breakfast so that they had nearly the whole day for games and jollity. In this country where little quarrette lived there were fairies. Not very many of them, it is true, for the people had never seen but two. These were sisters and they were never fairies more generally light than these two little creatures, neither of them over four inches high. They were very fond of the company of human beings and were just as full of fun as anybody. They often used to come to spend an hour or two and sometimes a whole day with the good folks and they seemed always glad to see and to talk to everybody. These sisters lived near the top of a mountain in a fairy cottage. This cottage had never been seen by any of the people, but the sisters had often told them all about it. It must have been a charming place. The house was not much bigger than a band box and it had two stories and a garret with a little portico running all around it. Inside was the dearest little furniture of all kinds, beds, tables, chairs, and all the furniture that could possibly be needed. Everything about the house and grounds was on the same small scale. There was a little stable and a little barn with a little old man to work the little garden and attend to the two little cows. Around the house were garden beds ever so small and little gravel paths and a kitchen garden where the peas climbed up, little sticks no bigger than pins, and where the little chickens about the size of flies sometimes got in and scratched up the little vegetables. There was a little meadow for pasture and a grove of little trees and there was also a small field of sweet marjoram where the blossoms were so tiny that you could hardly have seen them without a magnifying glass. It was not very far from this cottage to the sweet marjoram country and the fairy sisters had no trouble at all in running down there whenever they felt like it, but none of the people had ever seen this little home. They had looked for it but could not find it and the fairies would never take any of them to it. They said it was no place for human beings. Even the smallest boy, if he were to trip his toe, might fall against their house and knock it over, and to any of them coming into the fairy grounds that would be impossible for there was no spot large enough for even a common size baby to creep about in. On sweet marjoram day the fairies never failed to come. Every year they taught the people new gains and all sorts of new ways of having fun. The good folks would never have even thought of having such fine times if it had not been for these fairies. One delightful afternoon, about a month before sweet marjoram day, Corrette, who was a little girl just old enough and not a day too old, which is exactly the age of all little girls ought to be, was talking about the fairy cottage to some of her companions. We never can see it, said Corrette, sorefully. No, said one of the other girls. We are too big. If we were little enough we might go. Are you sure the sisters would be glad to see us then? Ask Corrette. Yes, I heard them say so, but it doesn't matter at all as we are not little enough. No, said Corrette, and she went off to take a walk by herself. She had not walked far before she reached a small house which stood by the sea shore. This house belonged to a reformed pirate who lived there all by himself. He had entirely given up a seafaring life so as to avoid all temptation, and he employed his time in the mildest pursuits he could think of. When Corrette came to his house she saw him sitting in an easy chair in front of his door near the edge of a small bluff which overhung the sea, busily engaged in knitting a tidy. When he saw Corrette he greeted her kindly and put aside his knitting which he was very glad to do for he hated knitting tidies, though he thought it was his duty to make them. Well, my little maid, he said, in a strange muffled voice which sounded as if he were speaking under water, for he tried to be as gentle in every way as he could. How do you do? You don't look quite as gay as usual. Has anything run afoul of you? Oh, no, said Corrette, and she came and stood by him, and taking up his tidy she looked it over carefully, and showed him where he had dropped a lot of stitches, and where he had made some too tight and others a great deal too loose. He did not know how to knit very well. When she had shown him as well as she could how he ought to do it, she sat down on the grass by his side, and after a while she began to talk to him about the fairy cottage, and what a great pity it was that it was impossible for her ever to see it. It is a pity, said the reformed pirate, I've heard of that cottage, and I'd like to see it myself. In fact, I'd like to go see almost anything that was proper and quiet, so as to get rid of the sight of this everlasting knitting. There are other things you might do besides knit, said Corrette. Nothing so depressing and suitable, said he with a sigh. It would be of no use for you to think of going there, said Corrette. Even I am too large, and you are ever and ever so much too big. You couldn't get one foot into any of their paths. I've no doubt that's true, he replied, but the thing might be done. Almost anything can be done if you set about it in the right way. But you see, little maid, that you and I don't know enough. Now, years ago, when I was in a different line of business, I often used to get puzzled about one thing or another, and then I went to somebody who knew more than myself. Were there many such persons, asked Corrette? Well, no. I always went to one old fellow who was a practicing wizard. He lived, and still lives, I reckon, on an island about fifty miles from here, right off there, to the south-south-west. I've no doubt that if we were to go to him he'd tell us just how to do this thing. But how could we get there, asked Corrette? Oh, I'd manage that, said the reformed pirate, his eyes flashing with animation. I've an old sailboat back there in the creek that's as good as ever she was. I could fix her up, and get everything all ship-shaped in a couple of days, and then you and I could scud over there in no time. What do you say? Wouldn't you like to go? Oh, I'd like to go ever so much, cried Corrette, clapping her hands, if they'd let me, well, run and ask them, said he, rolling up his knitting and stuffing it under the cushion of his chair, and I'll go and look at that boat right away. So Corrette ran home to her father and mother, and told them all about the matter. They listened with great interest, and her father said, well, now our little girl is not looking quite as well as usual. I have noticed that she is somewhat pale. A sea-trip might be the very thing for her. I think it would do her a great deal of good, said her mother, and as to that reformed pirate, she'd be just as safe with him as if she was on dry land. So it was agreed that Corrette should go. Her father and mother were always remarkably kind. The reformed pirate was perfectly delighted when he heard this, and he went hard to work to get his little vessel ready. To seal again on the ocean seemed to him the greatest of earthly joys, and he was to do it for the benefit of a good little girl. It was all perfectly right and proper. When they started the next day, but one, all the people who lived near came down to see them off. Just as they were about to sail, the reformed pirate said, Hello! I wonder if I hadn't better run back to the house and get my sword. I only wear the empty scabbard now, but it might be safer on a trip like this to take the sword along. So he ran back and got it, and then he pushed off amid the shouts of all the good people on the beach. The boat was quite a good-sized one, and it had a cabin and everything neat and comfortable. The reformed pirate managed it beautifully all by himself, and Corrette sat in the stern and watched the waves and the sky and the sea birds and was very happy indeed. As for her companion, he was in a state of ecstasy. As the breeze freshened and the sails filled and the vessel went dashing over the waves, he laughed and joked and sang snatches of old sea songs and was the jolliest man afloat. After a while, as they went thus sailing merrily along, a distant ship appeared in sight. The moment his eyes fell upon it, a sudden change came over the reformed pirate. He sprang to his feet, and with his hands still upon the helm he leaned forward and gazed at the ship. He gazed and he gazed and he gazed without saying a word. Corrette spoke to him several times, but he answered not, and as he gazed he moved the helm so that his little craft gradually turned from her course and sailed to meet the distant ship. As the two vessels approached each other, the reformed pirate became very much excited. He tightened his belt and loosened his sword in its sheath, hurriedly giving the helm to Corrette. He went forward and jerked a lot of ropes and hooks from a cubby-hole where they had been stowed away. Then he pulled out a small dark flag with its bits of skeleton painted on it and hoisted it to the top mast. By this time he had nearly reached the ship, which was a large three-masted vessel. There seemed to be a great commotion on board. Sailors were running this way and that, women were screaming, and officers could be heard shouting, put her about, clap on, more sail. But steadily on sailed the small boat, and the moment it came alongside the big ship. The reformed pirate threw out grapples and made the two vessels fast together. Then he hooked a rope ladder to the side of the ship and rushing up it, spraying with a yell on the deck of the vessel, waving his flashing sword around his head. Down, dastards, varlots, hounds, he shouted. Down upon your knees, throw down your arms, surrender. Then every man went down upon his knees and threw down his arms and surrendered. Where is your captain, roared their conqueror? The captain came trembling forward. Bring me your gold and silver, your jewels and your precious stones and your rich stuffs. The captain ordered these to be quickly brought in place before the reformed pirate, who continued to stride to and fro across the deck, waving his glittering blade and who, when he saw the treasures placed before him, showed it again, prepare for scuttling, and then, while the women got down on their knees and begged that he would not sink the ship, and the children cried and the men trembled so that they could hardly kneel straight, and the captain stood pale and shaking before him, he glanced at the pile of treasure and touched it with his sword. Abort with this, my men, he said, but first I will divide this into, into, into one part, look here, and then he paused, glanced around and clapped his hand to his head. He looked at the people, the treasurer and the ship, then suddenly he sheed his sword and stepping up to the captain extended his hand. Good sir, said he, you must excuse me. This is a mistake. I had no intention of taking this vessel. It was merely a temporary absence of mind. I forgot I had reformed, and seeing the ship, old scenes and my old business came into my head, and I just came and took the vessel without really thinking what I was doing. I beg you will excuse me. And these ladies, I am very sorry to have inconvenienced them. I ask them to overlook my unintentional routeness. Oh, don't mention it, cried the captain, his face beaming with joy as he seized the hand of the reformed pirate. It is of no importance. I assure you. We are delighted, sir, delighted. Oh, yes, cried all the ladies, kind sir, we are charmed. We are charmed. You are all very good, indeed, said the reformed pirate. But I really think I was not altogether excusable, and I am very sorry that I made your men bring up all these things. Not at all, not at all, cried the captain, no trouble whatever to show them. Very glad indeed to have the opportunity. By the by would you like to take a few of them as a memento of your visit? Oh, no, I thank you, replied the reformed pirate. I would rather not. Perhaps then some of your men might like a trinket or a bit of cloth. Oh, I have no men. There is no one on board but myself, accepting a little girl who is a passenger. But I must be going, good-bye, captain. I am sorry you are in such a hurry, said the captain. Is there anything at all that I can do for you? No thank you, but stop, there may be something. Do you sail to any port where there is a trade in tidies? Oh, yes, to several such, said the captain. Well then, I would be very much obliged to you, said the reformed pirate. If you would sometimes stop off that point of land that you see there and send a boat ashore to my house for a load of tidies, you manufacture them by the quantity then, asked the captain. I expect to, said the other, sadly. The captain promised to stop, and, after shaking hands with every person on deck, the reformed pirate went down the side of the ship, and taking in the ladder and his grappinals he pushed off as he slowly sailed away, having lowered his flag, the captain looked over the side of his ship and said, if I had only known that there was nobody but a little girl on board, I thought, of course, he had a boatload of pirates. That asked a great many questions about everything that had happened on the ship, for she had heard the noise and confusion as she sat below in the little boat, but her companion was disposed to be silent, and said very little in reply. When the trip was over and they had reached the island, the reformed pirate made his boat fast, and taking little corrett, by the hand he walked up to the house of the practicing wizard. This was a queer place. It was a great rambling house, one story high in some places and nine or ten in other places, and then again it seemed to run into the ground and reappear at a short distance, the different parts being connected by cellars and basements, with nothing but flower gardens over them. Corrett thought she had never seen such a wonderful building, but she had not long to look at the outside of it, for her companion, who had been there before, and knew the ways of the place went up to a little door in a two-story part of the house, and not. Our friends were admitted by a dark, cream-colored slave, who informed them that the practicing wizard was engaged with other visitors, but that he would soon be at leisure. So Corrett and the reformed pirate sat down in a handsome room, filled of curious and wonderful things, and in a short time they were summoned into the practicing wizard's private office. Glad to see you, said he, as the reformed pirate entered. It has been a long time since you were here. What can I do for you now? Want to know something about the whereabouts of any ships or the value of any cargoes? Oh no, I am out of that business now, said the other. I've come this time for something entirely different, but I'll let this little girl tell you what it is. She can do it a great deal better than I. So Corrett stepped up to the practicing wizard, who was a pleasant, elderly man, with a smooth white face and a constant smile, which seemed to have grown on his face instead of a beard, and she told him the whole story of the fairy sisters and their cottage, of her great desire to see it, and of the difficulties in the way. I know all about those sisters, he said. I don't wonder you want to see their house. You both wish to see it? Yes, said the reformed pirate. I might as well go with her, if the thing can be done at all. Very proper, said the practicing wizard, very proper indeed, but there is only one way in which it can be done. You must be condensed. Does that hurt, asked Corrett? Oh, not at all. You'll never feel it. For the two it will be one hundred and eighty dukets, said he, turning to the reformed pirate. We make a reduction when there are more than one. Are you willing, asked the reformed pirate of Corrett, as he put his hand in his breeches pocket? Oh, yes, said Corrett. Certainly I am, if that's the only way. Whereupon her good friend said no more, but pulled out a hundred and eighty dukets, and handed them to the practicing wizard, who immediately commenced operations. Corrett and the reformed pirate were each seated in a large easy chair, and upon each of their heads the old white-faced gentleman placed a little pink ball about the size of a pea, then he took a position in front of them. Now then, said he, sit perfectly still. It will be over in a few minutes, and he lifted up a long thick stick, and pointing it toward the couple, he began to count. One, two, three, four. As he counted, the reformed pirate and Corrett began to shrink, and by the time he had reached fifty they were no bigger than cats, but he kept on counting until Corrett was about three and a half inches high and her companion about five inches. Then he stopped, and knocked the pink ball from each of their heads with a little tap of his long stick. There we are, said he, and he carefully picked up the little little creatures, and put them on a table in front of a looking glass that they might see how they liked his work. It was abnormally done, every proportion had been perfectly kept. It seems to me that it couldn't be better, said the condensed pirate, looking at himself from top to toe. No, said the practicing wizard, smiling rather more than usual. I don't believe it could. But how are we to get away from here, said Corrett, to her friend, a little fellow like you can't sail that big boat? No, replied he, roofily, that's true. I wouldn't do it, but perhaps, sir, you could condense the boat. Oh, no, said the old gentleman, that would never do. Such a little boat would be swamped before you reach shore. If a big fish didn't swallow you, no, I'll see that you get away safely. So saying he went to a small cage that stood in a wall, and took from it a pigeon, this fellow will take you, said he, he is very strong and swift, and will go ever so much faster than your boat. He fastened a belt around the bird, and to the lower part of this he hung a little basket with two seats in it. He then lifted Corrett and the condensed pirate into the basket, where they sat down opposite one another. Do you wish to go directly to the cottage of the fairy sisters, said the old gentleman? Oh, yes, said Corrett. So he wrote the proper address on the bill of the pigeon, and opening the window carefully that the bird fly. I'll take care of your boat, he cried to the condensed pirate, as the pigeon rose in the air. You'll find it all right when you come back. And he smiled worse than ever. The pigeon flew up to a great height, and then he took flight in a straight line for the fairy cottage, where he arrived before his passengers thought they had half finished their journey. The bird alighted on the ground, just outside of the boundary fence, and when Corrett and her companion had jumped from the basket, he rose and flew away home as fast as he could go. The condensed pirate now opened a little gate in the fence, and he and Corrett walked in. They went up the gravel path, and under the fruit trees, where the ripe peaches and apples hung as big as peas, and they knocked at the door of the fairy sisters. When these two little ladies came to the door, they were amazed to see Corrett. Why, how did you ever? They cried, and if there isn't our friend, the reformed pirate. Condensed pirate, if you please, said that individual, there is no use of my being reformed, while I'm so small as this. I couldn't hurt anybody if I wanted to. Well, come right in, both of you, said the sisters, and tell us all about it. So they went in and sat in the little parlor, and told their story. The fairies were delighted with the whole affair, and insisted on a long visit, to which our two friends were not at all opposed. They found everything at this cottage exactly as they had been told. They ate the daintiest little meals off the daintiest little dishes, and they thoroughly enjoyed all the delightful little things in the little place. Sometimes Corrett and the fairies would take naps in the little hammocks, under the trees, while the condensed pirate helped the little man drive up the little cows, or work in the little garden. On the second day of their visit, when they were all sitting on the little porticole after supper, one of the sisters, thinking that the condensed pirate might like to have something to do, and knowing how he used to occupy himself, took from her basket a little half-knit tidy with the needles in it, and asked him if he cared to amuse himself with that. No ma'am, said he firmly, but politely, not at present. If I find it necessary to reform again, I may do something of the kind, but not now, but I thank you all the same. After this they were all very careful not to mention tidies to him. Corrett and her companion stayed with the fairies for more than a week. Corrett knew that her father and mother did not expect her at home for some time, and so she felt quite at liberty to stay as long as she pleased. As to the sisters, they were delighted to have their visitors with them. But one day the condensed pirate, finding Corrett alone, let her with such great secrecy to the bottom of the pasture field, the very outskirts of the fairies' domain. Look here, said he, in his lowest tones. Do you know, little Corrett, that things are not as I expected them to be here? Everything is very nice and good, but nothing appears very small to me. Indeed, things seem to be just about the right size. How does it strike you? Well, I have been thinking the same thing, said Corrett. The sisters used to be such dear, cunning little creatures, and now they're bigger than I am. But I don't know what can be done about it. I know, said the condensed pirate. What? said Corrett. Condensum, answered her companion, somely. Oh, but you couldn't do that, exclaimed Corrett. Yes, but I can, at least, I think I can. You remember those two pink condensing balls? Yes, said Corrett. Well, I've got mine. You have, cried Corrett. How did you get it? Oh, when the old fellow knocked it off my head, it fell on a chair beside me, and I picked it up and put it in my coat pocket. It would just go in. He charges for the balls, and so I thought I might as well have it. But do you know how he works them? Oh, yes, replied the condensed pirate. I watched him. What do you say? Shall we condense this whole place? It won't hurt them, said Corrett. I don't really think that they would mind it. Mind it? No, said the other. I believe they'd like it. So it was agreed that the fairy cottage, inmates and grounds, should be condensed until they were relatively as small as they used to be. That afternoon, when the sisters were taking a nap, and the little man was at work in the barn, the condensed pirate went up into the garret of the cottage, and got out on the roof. Then he climbed to the top of the tallest chimney, which overlooked everything on the place, and there he laid his little pink ball. He then softly descended, and taking Corrett by the hand, she had been waiting for him on the particle. He went down to the bottom of the pasture field. When he was quite sure that he and Corrett were entirely outside of the fairy's grounds, he stood up, pointed to the ball with a long, thin stick, which he had cut, and began to count one, two, three. And as he counted, the cottage began to shrink, smaller and smaller it became, until it got to be very little indeed. Is that enough? said the condensed pirate hurriedly, between two counts. No, replied Corrett. There is the little man. Just come out of the barn. He ought to be as small as the sisters used to be. I'll tell you when to stop. So the county went on until Corrett said stop, and the cottage was really not much higher than a thimble. The little man stood by the barn, and seemed to Corrett to be just about the former size of the fairy sisters, but in fact he was not quite a quarter of an inch high. Everything on the place was small in proportion, so that when Corrett said stop, the condensed pirate easily leaned over and knocked the pink ball from the chimney with his long stick. It fell outside of the grounds, and he picked it up and put it in his pocket. Then he and Corrett stood and admired everything. It was charming. It was just what they had imagined before they came there. While they were looking with the light at the little fields, and trees, and chickens, so small that really big people could not have seen them, and at the cute little house with its vines and portico, the two sisters came out on the little lawn. When they saw Corrett and her companion, they were astounded. Why, when did you grow big again? They cried. Oh, how sorry we are. Now you cannot come in to our house and leave with us any longer. Corrett and the condensed pirate looked at each other as much as to say they don't know they have been made so little. Then Corrett said, we are sorry too. I suppose we shall have to go away now, but we had a delightful visit. It has been a charming one for us, said one of the sisters, and if we only had known we would have had a little party before you went away, but now it is too late. The condensed pirate said nothing. He felt rather guilty about the matter. He might have waited a little, and yet he could not have told them about it. They might have objected to be condensed. May we stay just a little longer and look at things, as Corrett? Yes, replied one of the fairies, but you must be very careful not to step inside the grounds, or to stumble over on our place. You might do untold damage. So the two little big people stood and imbired the fairy cottage, and all about it. For this was indeed the site they came to see, and then they took leave of their kind entertainers, who would have been glad to have them stay longer, but were really trembling with apprehension, lest some false step or careless movement might ruin their home. As Corrett and the condensed pirate took their way through the woods to their home, they found it very difficult to get along. They were so small. When they came to a narrow stream, which Corrett would once have jumped over with ease, the condensed pirate had to make a fairy boat of a piece of bark, and paddle himself and the little girl across. I wonder how the fairies used to come down to us, said Corrett, who was struggling along over the stones and moss, hanging on to her companion's hand. Oh, I expect they have a nice smooth path, somewhere through the woods, where they can run along as fast as they please, and bridges over the streams. Why didn't they tell us of it? asked Corrett. They thought it was too little to be of any use to us. Don't you see, they think we're big people and wouldn't need their path. Oh, yes, said Corrett. In time, however, they got down the mountain and out of the woods, and then they climbed up on one of the fences and ran along the top of it toward Corrett's home. When the people saw them, they cried out, Oh, here come our dear little fairies, who have not visited us for so many days. But when they saw them close at hand, and perceived that they were little Corrett and the pirate who had reformed, they were dumbfounded. Corrett did not stop to tell them anything, but still holding her companion's hand, she ran on to her parents' house, followed by a crowd of neighbors. Corrett's father and mother could hardly believe that this little being was their daughter, but there was no mistaking her face and her clothes and her voice, although they were all so small, that when she had explained the matter to them and to the people who filled the house, they understood it all, they were overcome with joy to have their daughter back again, little or big. When the condensed pirate went to his house, he found the door locked, as he had left it, but he easily crawled in through a crack. He found everything of an enormous size. It did not look like the old place. He climbed up the leg of a chair and got on a table by the help of the tablecloth, but it was hard work. He found something to eat and drink, and all his possessions were in order, but he did not feel at home. This passed on, and while the condensed pirate did not feel any better satisfied, a sadness seemed to spread over the country and particularly over Corrett's home. The people grieved that they never saw the fairy sisters, who indeed had made two or three visits, with infinite trouble and toil, but who could not make themselves observed, their bodies and their voices being so very small, and Corrett's father and mother grieved. They wanted their daughter to be as she was before. They said that sweet Marjoram Day was very near, but that they could not look forward to it with pleasure. Corrett might go out to the fields, but she could only sit upon some hide place, as the fairies used to sit. She could not help in the gathering. She could not even be with the babies. They would roll on her and crush her, so they mourned. It was now the night before the great holiday. Sweet Marjoram Eve had not been a very gay time, and the people did not expect to have much fun the next day. How could they, if the fairy sisters did not come? Corrett felt badly, for she had never told that the sisters had been condensed, and the condensed pirate, who had insisted on her secrecy, felt worse. That night he lay in his great bed, really afraid to go to sleep on a count of rats and mice. He was so extremely wakeful that he lay and thought, and thought, and thought for a long time, and then he got up and dressed and went out. It was a beautiful moonlit night, and he made his way directly to Corrett's house. There by means of a vine he climbed up to her window, and gently called her. She was not sleeping well, and she soon heard him and came to the window. He then desired her to bring him two spools of fine thread. Without asking any questions she went for the thread, and very soon made her appearance at the window with one spool in her arms, and then she went back for another. Now then, said the condensed pirate, when he had thrown the spools down to the ground, will you dress yourself and wait here at the window until I come and call for you? Corrett promised, for she thought he had some good plan in his head, and he hurried down the vine, took up another spool under his arm, and bent his way to the church. This building had a high steeple which overlooked the whole country. He left one of the spools outside, and then easily creeping with the other under one of the great doors, he carried it with infinite pains and labor up into the belfry. There he tied it on his back, and getting out of a window began to climb up the outside of the steeple. It was not hard for him to do this, for the rough stones gave him plenty of foothold, and he soon stood on the very tip top of the steeple. He then took tight hold of one end of the thread on his spool, and let the spool drop. The thread rapidly unrolled, and the spool soon touched the ground. Now our friend took from his pocket the pink ball, and passing the end of the thread through a little hole in the middle of it, he tied it firmly, placing the ball in a small depression on the top of the steeple. He left it there with the thread hanging from it, and rapidly descended to the ground. There he took the other spool, and tied the end of its thread to that which was hanging from the steeple. He now put down the spool, and ran to call Corrette. When she heard his voice, she clambered down the vine to him. Now Corrette, he said, run to my house and stand on the beach, near the water, and wait for me. Corrette ran off as he had asked, and he went back to his spool. He took it up, and walked slowly to his house. Suddenly unwinding the thread as he went, the church was not very far from the seashore, so he soon joined Corrette. With her assistance he then unwound the rest of the thread, and made a little coil. He next gave the coil to Corrette to hold, cautioning her to be very careful, and then he ran off to where some bits of wood were lying, close to the water's edge. Selecting a little piece of thin board, he pushed it into the water, and taking a small stick in his hand, he jumped on it, and pulled it along to where Corrette was standing. The ocean here formed a little bay where the water was quite smooth. Now Corrette said the condensed pirate, we must be very careful. I will push this ashore, and you must step on board, letting out some of the thread as you come. Be sure not to pull it tight, that I will paddle out a little way, and as I push, you must let out more thread. Corrette did as she was directed, and very soon they were standing on a little raft a few yards from shore. Then her companion put down his stick, and took the coil of thread. What are you going to do, asked Corrette? She had wanted to ask before, but there did not seem to be time. Well, said he, we can't make ourselves any bigger, at least, I don't know how to do it, and so I'm going to condense the whole country. The little pink ball is on top of the steeple, which is higher than anything else about here. You know, I can't knock the ball off at the proper time, so I've tied a thread to it to pull it off. You and I are outside of the place, on the water, so we won't be made any smaller. If the thing works, everybody will be our size, and all will be right again. Splendid! cried Corrette. But how will you know when things are little enough? Do you see that door in my house? Almost in front of us? Well, when I was of the odd size, I used just to touch the top of that door with my head, if I didn't stoop. When you see that the door is about my present height, tell me to stop. Now then, the condensed pirate began to count, and instantly the whole place, church, houses, fields, and of course the people who were in bed, began to shrink. He counted a good while before Corrette thought his door would fit him. At last he called to him to stop. He glanced at the door to feel sure, counted one more, and pulled the thread. Down came the ball, and the size of the place was fixed. The whole of the sweet marjoram country was now so small that the houses were like band boxes and the people not more than four or five inches high, accepting some very tall people who were six inches. Drawing the ball to him, the condensed pirate pushed out some distance, broke it from the thread, and threw it into the water. No more condensing, said he. He then paddled himself and Corrette ashore, and running to his cottage, threw open the door, and looked about him. Everything was just right. Everything fitted. He shouted with joy. It was just daybreak when Corrette rushed into her parent's house. Startled by the noise, her father and mother sprang out of bed. Our darling daughter, they shouted, and she has her proper size again. In an instant she was clasped in their arms. When the first transports of joy were over, Corrette sat down and told them the whole story, told them everything. It is all right, said her mother, so that we are all of the same size, and she shed tears of joy. Corrette's father ran out to ring the church bell, so as to wake up the people, to tell them the good news, of his daughter's restoration. When he came in, he said, I see no difference in anything. Everybody is all right. There never was such a glorious celebration, a sweet margin of day, as took place that year. The crop was splendid, the weather was more lovely than usual, if such a thing could be, and everybody was in the gayest humor. But the best thing of all was the appearance of the fairy sisters. When they came among the people, they all shouted as if they had gone wild, and the good little sisters were so overjoyed that they could scarcely speak. What a wonderful thing it is to find that we have grown to our old size again. We were here several times lately, but somehow or another, we seem to be so very small that we couldn't make you see or hear us. But now it's all right, we have forty-two new games. And at that, the crop being all in, the whole country with a shout of joy went to work to play. There were no gayer people to be seen than Carrette and the condensed pirate. Some of his friends called this good man by his old name, but he corrected them. I am reformed all the same, he said. But do not call me by that name, I shall never be able to separate it from its associations with Tides, and with them I am done forever, owing to circumstances I do not need to be depressed. The captain of the ship never stopped off the coast for a load of Tides, perhaps he did not care to come near the house of his former captain, for fear that he might forget himself again and take the ship a second time. But if the captain had come it is not likely that his men would have found the cottage of the condensed pirate, unless they had landed at the very spot where it stood, and it so happened that no one ever noticed this country after it was condensed. Many ships could not come near enough to see such a very little place, and there never were any very good roads to it by land. But the people continued to be happy and prosperous, and they kept up the celebration of sweet-marjoram day as gaily as when they were all ordinary-sized people. In the whole country there were only two persons, Carrette and the pirate, who really believed that they were condensed. End of Chapter 3, Recording by Linda Marie Nielsen, Vancouver, B.C. Chapter 4 of The Floating Prince and Other Fairy Tales This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Floating Prince and Other Fairy Tales By Frank R. Stockton Chapter 4 More than a hundred and sixty-eight years ago there lived a curious personage called Old Riddler. His real name was unknown to the people in that part of the country where he dwelt, but this made no difference, for the name given him was probably just as good as his own. Indeed I am quite sure that it was better, for it meant something, and very few people have names that mean anything. He was called Old Riddler for two reasons. In the first place he was an elderly man, secondly he was the greatest fellow to ask riddles that you ever heard of, so his name fitted him very well. Old Riddler had some very particular characteristics. Among others he was a gnome, living underground for the greater part of his time. He had ample opportunities of working out curious and artful riddles, which he used to try on his fellow gnomes, and if they liked them he would go above ground and propound his conundrums to the country people, who sometimes guessed them, but often not. The fact is that those persons who wished to be on good terms with the old gnome never guessed his riddles. They knew that they would please him better by giving them up. He took such a pleasure in telling the answers of his riddles that no truly kind-hearted person would deprive him of it by trying to solve them. You see, as Old Riddler used to say when talked to on the subject, if I take all the trouble to make up these riddles, it's no more than fair that I should be allowed to give the answers. For the old gnome who was not much higher than a two-year-old child, though he had quite a venerable head and face, was very much encouraged by the way people treated him, and when a person happened to be very kind and appreciative and gave a good deal of attention to one of his conundrums, that person would be pretty sure, before long, to feel geod that he had met Old Riddler. There were thousands of ways in which the gnomes could benefit the country folk, especially those who had little farms or gardens. Sometimes Old Riddler, who was a person of great influence in his tribe, would take a company of gnomes under the garden of someone to whom he wished to do a favor, and they would put their little hands up through the earth and pull down all the weeds, root foremost, so that when the owner went out in the morning, he would find his garden all clear of weeds as the bottom of a dinner-plate. Of course, any one who has habits of this kind must eventually become a general favorite, and this was the case with Old Riddler. One day he made up a splendid riddle, and after he had told it to all the gnomes, he hurried up to propound it to some human person. He was in such haste that he actually forgot his hat. Although it was late in the fall and he wore his cloak, he had not gone far through the fields before he met a young goose-girl named Lois. She was a poor girl, and was barefooted, and as Old Riddler saw her in her scanty dress, standing on the cold ground watching her geese, he thought to himself, Now, do I hope that the girl has wit enough to understand my riddle, for I feel that I would like to get interested in her? So, approaching Lois, he made a bow and politely asked her, Can you tell me, my good little girl, why a ship full of sailors at the bottom of the sea is like the price of beef? The goose-girl began to scratch her head through the old handkerchief she wore instead of a bonnet, and tried to think of the answer. Because it's low? She said, after a minute or two. Oh, no! said the gnome. That's not it. You can give it up, you know, if you can't think of the answer. I know, said Lois. Because it's sunk. Not at all, said Old Riddler, a little impatiently. Now come on, my good girl. You'd much better give it up. You will just hack at the answer until you make it good for nothing. Well, what is it, said Lois? I will tell you, said the gnome. Now pay attention to the answer. Because it has gone down. Don't you see? asked the old fellow with a gracious smile. Yes, I see, said the goose-girl, scratching her head again. But my answer was nearly as good as yours. Oh, dear me, said Old Riddler. That won't do. It's of no use at all to give an answer that is nearly good enough. It must be exactly right, or it's worthless. I am afraid, young girl, that you don't care much for riddles. Yes, I do, said the goose-girl. I make them. Make them? exclaimed Old Riddler, in great surprise. Yes, replied Lois. I'm out here all day with these geese, and I haven't anything else to do, and so I make riddles. Do you want to hear one of them? Yes, I would like it very much indeed, said the gnome. Well then, here's one. If the roofs of houses were flat instead of slanting, why would the rain be like a chained dog? Give it up, said Old Riddler. Because it couldn't run off, answered Lois. Very good, very good, said the gnome. Why, that's nearly as good as some of mine. And now, my young friend, didn't you feel pleased to have me give up the riddle and let you tell me the answer? Straight and true. Just as you knew it ought to be. Oh, yes, said the goose-girl. Well then, continued Old Riddler, remember this. What pleases you will often please other people, and never guess another riddle. Lois, although a rough country girl, was touched by the old man's earnestness and his gentle tones. I never will, said she. That's a very well-meaning girl, said Old Riddler to himself as he walked away. Although she hasn't much polish, I'll come sometimes and help her a little with her conundrums. Old Riddler had a son named Huckleberry. He was a smart, bright young fellow, and resembled his father in many respects. When he went home, the old gnome told his son about Lois, and tried to impress on his mind the same lesson he had taught the young girl. Huckleberry was a very good little chap, but he was quick witted and rather forward, and often made his father very angry by guessing his riddles, and so he needed a good deal of parental counsel. Nearly all that night Huckleberry thought about what his father had told him, but not at all as Old Riddler intended he should. What a fine thing it must be, said Huckleberry to himself, to go out into the world and teach people things. I'm going to try it myself. So the next day he started off on his mission. The first person he saw was a very small girl playing under a big oak tree. When the small girl saw the young gnome, she was frightened and drew back, standing up as close against the tree as she could get. But up stepped Master Huckleberry, with all the heirs and the graces he could command. Can you tell me, my little miss? He said. An elephant with a glass globe of goldfish tied to his tail is like a monkey with one pink eye and one of a mazarin blue. No, said the small girl. I don't know. Go away. Oh, said Huckleberry, perhaps it's too hard for you. I know some nice little ones in words of one syllable. Why is a red man with a green hat like a good boy with a large duck in a small pond? Go away, said the small girl. I came here to pick flowers. I don't know riddles. Perhaps that one is too easy, said Huckleberry kindly. I have all sorts. Here is one with longer words divided into syllables. I'll say it slowly for you. What is the difference between a magnanimous shipmate and the topmost leaflet on your grandmother's Barbary Bush? I haven't got any grandmother, she said. Oh well, any grandmother will do, said Huckleberry. I can't guess it, said the small girl who was now beginning to lose her fear of the funny little fellow. I never guessed any riddles. I'm not old enough. Very well then, said Huckleberry. I'll tell you what I'll do. Let's sit down here under the tree and I'll tell you one of the father's riddles and give you the answer. His riddles are better than mine, because none of mine have any answers. I don't put answers to them, for I can never think of any good ones. I met a boy once and told him a lot of my riddles, and he learned them and went about asking people to guess them. And when the people gave them up, he couldn't tell them the answer, because there were none, and that made everybody mad. He told one of my riddles to his grandmother. I think it was the one with the pink-eyed monkey and the wagon-load of beans. No, said the small girl. The elephant and the goldfish was the other part of the pink-eyed monkey one. Oh, it didn't make any difference, said Huckleberry. I don't join my riddles together the same way every time. Sometimes I use the goldfish and the elephant with the last part of one riddle, and sometimes with another. As there's no answer to it, it don't matter. I begin a good many of my best riddles with the elephant, for it makes a fine opening. But as I was going to tell you, this boy told one of my riddles to his grandmother, and she liked it very much. But when she found out that there was no answer to it, she gave him a good box on the ear, and that boy has never liked me since. But now I'll tell you a story. That is, it's like a story, but it's really a riddle. Father made it, and everybody thinks it's one of his best. There was once a fair lady of renown who was engaged to be married to a prince. And when the wedding day came round, they were to be married in one of the prince's palaces on the mountains. She was so long getting dressed. You see she dressed in one of her father's palaces, down in the valley. That she was so afraid she would be late, so as soon as her veil was pinned on, she ran down to the stables, threw a wolfskin on the back of one of the furriest of the chargers, and springing on him she dashed away. She wasn't used to harnessing horses, and was in such a hurry that she forgot all about the bridle, and so, as she was dashing away, she found she couldn't steer the animal, and he didn't go anywhere near the prince's palace, but galloped on and on and on, every minute taking her further and further away from where she wanted to go. She couldn't turn the charger, and she couldn't stop him, though she tore off pieces of her veil and tried to put them around his nose, but it was no good. So when the wedding party had waited, and waited, and waited, the prince got angry and married another lady, and nobody knows where the fair lady of renown went to, although there are some people who say that she's a galloping yet, and trying to get her veil around her chargers nose. Now, why was that, that fair lady of renown never married? Answer? Because she had no bridle. You can either say bridle or bridle, because they both sound alike, and if she had, had either one of them, she would have been married. This is a pretty long riddle, but it's easier than mine, because it's all fixed up right, with the answer to it and everything. You like it better than mine, don't you? The small girl didn't answer, and when Huckleberry looked around, he saw that she was asleep. Poor little thing, said Huckleberry, softly to himself. I guess I gave her a little too much riddle to begin with. Her mind isn't formed yet, but it's pretty hard on me. I wanted to teach somebody something, and here she's gone to sleep. I wish I could find that goose girl. If father could teach her something, I'm sure I could. So he went walking through the fields, and pretty soon he saw a lois, standing among her geese who were feeding on the grass. Huckleberry skipped up to her as lively as a cricket. Can you tell me, he said, why an elephant with a glass globe of goldfish tied to his tail is like the Lord Hyde Admiral of the British Isles? Was the glass globe of the goldfish all the elephant owned? asked the goose girl thoughtfully. Yes, said Huckleberry, but I don't see what that's got to do with it. Then the answer is, said Lois, without noticing this last remark, because all his property is entailed. Well, I declare, cried Huckleberry, opening his eyes as wide as they would go. If you didn't guess it, why I didn't know it had an answer. I wish it hadn't had an answer, said the goose girl, suddenly stamping her foot. I wish there had never been an answer to it in the whole world. It was only yesterday that I promised old Riddler that I would never guess another riddle, and here I've done it. It's too bad. I don't think it is, cried Huckleberry, waving his little cap around by the tassel. It's all very well for Father not to want people to guess his riddles, because they've got answers and he knows what they are. But I would never have known that any of mine had an answer if you hadn't guessed this one. If you had had a riddle like this one, wouldn't you have been glad to have someone tell you the answer? Yes, I would, said Lois. Well then, my good girl, remember this. If a thing gives you pleasure, it's very likely that it'll give somebody else pleasure. So let somebody else have a chance, and the next time you hear a riddle that you think the owner has no answer for, guess it for him, if you can. Good-bye! And away went Master Huckleberry, skipping and singing and snapping his fingers and twirling his cap, until he came to a wide crack in the ground. Then he rolled himself up like a Huckleberry dumpling, and went tumbling and bouncing down into the underground home of the gnomes. Get out of the way, said he to the gnomes he passed, as he proudly strode to his father's appartments. I'm going to make a report. For the first time in my life I've taught somebody something. When Huckleberry left her, the goose-girl stood silently in the midst of her geese. Her brow was overcast. How's anybody to do two things that can't both be done? She exclaimed at last. I'll have nothing more to do with riddles as long as I live. Chapter 5 of The Floating Prince and Other Fairy Tales This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Floating Prince and Other Fairy Tales by Frank R. Stockton Chapter 5 The Gudra's Daughter The Gudra's daughter was named Volma. She was thirteen years old and had never been to school. Her kind mother had taught her all she knew. But as there are many people who do not know what a Gudra is, I will state at once that a Gudra is a giant dwarf. Volma's father belonged to a nation of dwarfs, who dwelt among the mountains. These little people were seldom over three feet in height. But the Gudra, the giant among them, was between five and six feet high, and broad and stout in proportion. He was a powerful lord among his people, and his size and courage gave him additional importance and influence. He was very proud of his superior stature and his high position. This pride was the reason why his daughter, Volma, had never been to school. He considered her far above such a thing as going to school with the dwarf children of the country. Volma resembled her father and stature, and at the time of this story was as large as an ordinary girl of her age. She was very good and gentle, and would have been glad to go to school, but this her haughty father would not allow. One day Volma's mother, who was quite a small woman, even for a dwarf, began to talk about her daughter's want of education. Education cried the Gudra. I intend she shall have an education, but I do not intend that she shall waste years in poring over books and parchments. She is a girl with a fine mind, like mine. She can take in learning instantly. Even now she's a head higher than any woman in the country. But does that make it any more easy for her to learn, asked her mother? Of course it does, exclaimed the Gudra. She is superior in every way to any other child in the nation. She shall have an education, but she shall have it all at once. I'm sure that her mind is capable of taking in an excellent education in a week. This made the Gudra's wife, exclaiming, astonishment, my, of course it has cried the Gudra. And then taking up a heavy hammer, he struck a large bell, which hung in his room. This was his manner of summoning his attendants. One stroke brought the attendant of the first rank, two strokes him of the second, and so on. The one stroke brought in old Krignak, the head counselor. Krignak said the Gudra, you have known me for a very long time, ever since I was born. Did you ever know me to fail in anything? Most noble sir said Krignak, I never did. There now cried the Gudra, turning to his wife. Did you hear that? I never have failed in anything, and I don't intend to do it now. But how do you expect to manage, this matter, asked his wife. I don't know yet, said the Gudra, but I'll do it. The next day, the Gudra told his wife that he had decided to give his daughter her education among the ordinary men and women of the world. That their methods of learning must be better than those of the doors, and that as Volma was now quite old enough to be a learned little princess, he should take her to the part of the world where ordinary people live and have her immediately educated. Am I to go? Asked his wife. No, said the Gudra. I do not wish anyone to suppose she has so small a mother. I will take Krignak, half a dozen servants, and the curious one. That will be enough. We shall soon be back. But will it not be dangerous, asked his wife to travel with a child in so few attendants? Dangerous, roared the Gudra, indignantly. Am I not going? The next day they started. They went on foot for the doors have no horses. The Gudra and his daughter marched first, then came Krignak, then the attendants in single file, and at the rear of all walked the curious one. This was a young fellow not quite three feet high and dressed entirely in white. He had a small head which was absolutely bald. He was a full grown dwarf but had never had any hair on his head. To add to his peculiar appearance he wore a glass cap. This allowed the sun to shine on his head to keep it warm, and in times of storms it protected his fate from snow and rain. He's very proud of this cap, which was his own invention. The duty of the curious one was to find out things and tell them to the Gudra. He was excellent at this business, being of an investigating turn of mind, and was very fond of telling what he knew. And on this account the Gudra liked always to have him near at hand. He now walked less so that he could see everything that the rest of the company might happen to do. Having marched for the greater part of a day with frequent rest, the Gudra and his party drew near a large city. As they approached it they saw walking toward them an ordinary man. Ho ho cried the Gudra, here is one of them. And now Krignak, tell me am I not larger and taller than this person who I suppose is about as big as any of them? Exalted sir replied Krignak, it seems to me, it really does seem to me that you are rather taller and somewhat stouter than this person. I thought so myself, said the Gudra, drawing himself up. Indeed, I suppose before I saw any of them that I was larger than the men of this place. The ordinary man now drew quite near and was much amazed to see the company of dwarves who composed the train of the Gudra and his daughter. He stood still and looked at them. A happy idea came into the Gudra's head. We shall want someone to guide us about the great city, said he to his head counselor. Let us engage this person if he is acquainted with the place. The ordinary man, when Krignak proposed that he should become their guide, immediately consented. He was not rich and was glad to get a job. He was also well acquainted with the city, having lived there all his life. The Gudra promised to pay him well. In the first place, said the ordinary man, when these arrangements had been made, a party of your rank should not walk into this city. It would not be considered dignified. It would be well if you would sit here and rest while I go and bring animals for your proper conveyance. So the Gudra and his company sat down by the roadside, and the ordinary man returned to the city, where he went to one of his relatives, who kept a camel stable, and hired a string of eleven camels. For these animals in single file, one person on each camel, the Gudra and the ordinary man leading, with a curious one bringing up the rear, the party entered the town. As they slowly filed through the streets, a crowd of people collected and followed them. The Gudra was very proud when he saw the curiosity of the citizens. I thought I should attract attention, he said to himself. It was generally supposed that this was a dwarf show, in charge of the Gudra and the ordinary man, and the little people on the camels were regarded with great interest, especially the curious one, who was very conspicuous as he sat on the tallest camel, with his glass cap glistening in the sun. The party was conducted to one of the best ends, where all were sumptuously lodged. The next day early in the morning the Gudra summoned the guide and told him his object in visiting the city. I suppose there are teachers of eminence in this place, said he. Oh, yes, good sir, replied the other. There are persons here who can teach anything from alchemy to zoology, and there are also excellent schools. Which is the best school, asked the Gudra. The very best, said the other. Yes, certainly replied the Gudra sharply. Of course I mean the very best. Well then, said the ordinary man. The very best school is the one where the young prince, the only son of the reigning prince of the city, is educated. In it are all our most learned professors, and there is a class for every branch of education. But the young prince is the only pupil in the school. He is the only one in each class, and all the apartments, and apparatus, and books, and all the professors and tutors are for him alone. This is the very school I want, cried the Gudra. It is just what I'm looking for. But it would be impossible for you to get your daughter into that school, said the ordinary man. It was established solely for the young prince, and his father will allow no one else to enter it. Some of our highest grandees have asked that their children might be permitted to share the instruction of the young prince in this most admirable school. But they have always been denied the privilege. That makes no difference, said the Gudra. I have never asked. I shall do so instantly. I shall write a letter to the prince of the city, tell him who I am, and ask that my daughter be allowed to study in the school, where everything seems to be brought together in such a manner that an education can be obtained by a girl like Volma in a very short time. Without further ado, the Gudra wrote the letter, and the ordinary man was ordered to have it conveyed to the prince. That same day, the answer came. The prince positively refused to allow any child, with the exception of his son, to enter his school. Now, indeed, was the Gudra angry. No one had ever seen him storm around the room as he now stormed. He vowed he would send to the king of his country, borrow an army, and carry his daughter into the prince's school at the point of the sword. I'm afraid, said the ordinary man, that an army of dwarves wouldn't have but a small chance against the soldiers of our prince. And he has plenty of them. The Gudra could not help thinking that there was sound sense in this remark, but that did not make him feel in any better humor. He called for his head counselor. Krignak, he cried, did you ever know me to fail in anything? Never most eminent, sir, replied Krignak. I never did, indeed. Well then, said the Gudra, strutting up and down the floor, I shall not fail now. Poor Volma was greatly terrified and troubled at all this, and begged her father to take her home. She would be perfectly satisfied, she said, to learn from her mother and the ordinary teachers of Dorfland. But her father would listen to nothing of the kind. He stalked up and down the floor, still vowing he would secede in what he had resolved to do, although he did not seem to have any idea how to go about it. Two or three days now passed during which the Gudra fumed and strode about. Little Volma sat in the windows engaged out at the strange sights of the great city, and the curious one went everywhere, looking at everything and coming back in the evening to tell his master what he had seen and heard. He heard a great deal, not very complimentary about himself, and even that he told the Gudra. During one of his walks, he wandered into a suburb of the city. He wanted to see if anything in particular was going on there. Coming to a place where two roads began, one of which seemed about as interesting as the other, it was in great doubt as to which way he should go. He would not, upon any account, miss anything worth seeing by going the wrong way. While still unable to decide which road to take, he saw a person approaching him who seemed to be a traveler. He was dusty and travel-worn. Sir cried the curious one, can you tell me where these roads lead? I am sorry to say that I cannot reply the other. I am a stranger here, I never saw the city before. Indeed, cried the curious one, where did you come from? I come from the land of the giant, said the other. The giant's exclaimed the curious one. Why, what were you doing there? Were you not afraid they would kill you? Oh, no, replied the other smiling, they would not kill me, I am one of them. You, cried the curious one, you are no bigger than any ordinary man. That is probably true, said the other. I am a dwarf giant. The curious one opened his eyes, as wide as they would go. He was too much astonished to say a word. Yes, said the other, my countrymen and my family are all giants. I'm the only dwarf among them. I am so much smaller and weaker than any of them that I can do none of the great things they do. And so, somewhat disheartened by my inferior position, I thought I would journey to the city, of which I have heard a great deal in the hope that something would happen to raise my spirits. Do you know, cried the curious one, this is the most wonderful thing. My master who lately came to visit the city is a giant dwarf, and he is just about your size. That is rather remarkable, said the other, a giant dwarf, I should like to see him. You can do that easily enough, said the curious one. Come with me, and I'll take you to him. He hasn't looked at many rare sites yet, and I know he will be glad to see you. The dwarf giant smiled and consented to go with the curious one. Not so much, however, to please the Gudrum, as to see for himself what a giant dwarf looked like. On the way to the end, the curious one who had lost all interest in the two roads, now that he had found something so well worth seeing and showing, told the dwarf giant why his master had come to the city and what had happened since his arrival. Perhaps you can help him. I doubt that very much, said the dwarf giant. I am seldom successful in anything I undertake, but I am perfectly willing to try. When they arrived at the end, the Gudrum appeared glad to see the dwarf giant, and immediately poured into his ears the story of his troubles and the affronts to which he had been subjected, to which the other listened as silently and patiently as if he had not heard at all before. When the long recital was finished, the ordinary man was summoned, and a consultation between the three was begun. As little Volma sat and gazed at them, while they were talking together, she said to herself, they looked just like three brothers. The Gudrum was in favor of carrying out his object, by means of some kind of force. He proposed that he should challenge the prince to single combat, and thus decide the matter. The others opposed this, the dwarf giant saying that if he were in the Gudrum's place, he would be afraid to undertake such a combat, for he had been told that the prince was a brave soldier and a good fighter. The ordinary man also thought the plan was a poor one. He proposed that they should all three go to the prince and lay the matter before him in person. It was often much better to do things in this way than to write letters. This proposition was agreed to, and the next day the three, accompanied by little Volma, proceeded to the prince's palace. They were admitted, and the prince gave them an audience. They found him on his throne in a magnificent and spacious hall. And as it happened to be a holiday, the little prince was sitting on a cushion, by the side of his father's throne. The prince requested them to make known their business, and the Gudra, drawing himself up as tall as possible, began to state what he wanted and how dissatisfied he was with the answer to his letter. During this speech, the little prince back in Devolma and moving to one side made room for her on his cushion. So she sat down beside him and they soon began to talk to each other, but in a very low tone. You then said the prince, addressing the Gudra when he had finished. Are you a giant dwarf? And you, turning to his companions, are a dwarf giant and an ordinary man? The three assented. Well, continued the prince with a smile, I really do not see very much difference between you. I've heard the giant dwarf. Now I'd like to know what this dwarf giant and the ordinary man have to say. The dwarf giant said that, of course, the prince had a good right to decide who should go to the school he had himself founded and who should not go, but he thought it would be doing a very great favor to the Gudra and especially to the Gudra's daughter, who in his eyes was a very charming little girl. The prince would allow her to study with his son. He put the matter entirely on this ground. The ordinary man thought that while the proposed arrangement would be of advantage to the little girl and the Gudra, it would also be of advantage to the prince, who, when his son was grown up, would probably be very glad to know that there was, in a country not a day's march away, a young lady of noble birth, who was also admirably educated. At this, the prince and the others turned and looked at Volma and the little prince as they sat side by side. But the two children were now so busy talking that they did not notice this, nor had they heard a word that had been said. Well, said the prince, I will carefully consider what all of you have said. We'll send an answer sometime tomorrow. So, saying he dismissed his visitors, first drawing little Volma toward him and taking a good long look at her pretty and good-humored countenance. In everything but stature, Volma resembled her mother. After they had departed, the Gudra a little discontented, for he had wanted his answer on the spot, the prince proceeded to consider the proposition that had been made to him. He would not have taken more than a minute to make his decision. Had it not been that the dwarf giant was one of the party that asked the favor, he cared nothing for the Gudra and his dwarfs. But it would be a bad thing for him to be drawn into a quarrel with giants who would not take long to destroy his city if they should happen to go to war with him. And although the dwarf giant was very peaceful and reasonable in his remarks, there was no knowing that the quarrel-some Gudra would not be able to prevail upon him to enlist his countrymen and his cause. So the prince considered and considered, and the next morning he had not finished considering. He walked over to his son's great schoolhouse that he might consult some of the professors in the matter. While standing in one of the large lecture rooms, the prince happened to spy a little creature dressed in white and wearing a glass cap who was creeping about him on the benches and desks. Hello, what is that? cried the prince, and he ordered his attendants to seize the creature. The curious one was very nimble, but he was soon surrounded and caught. When the prince saw him, he laughed heartily and asked him who he was and what he was doing there. The curious one did not hesitate a moment, but told the prince all about himself and also informed him that he had visited the palace and afterward the school to try to hear something that would give him an idea of what the prince's decision would be in regard to his master's proposition so that he could run back and take the Gudra some early news, but he was sorry to say he hadn't found out anything yet. Then your business, said the prince, is to see and hear all you can and tell all you hear and see. That is it, estimable prince, replied the curious one. And to pry into other people's affairs, continued the prince. I have to do that sometimes, returned the little fellow. Well, you must not come prying here, said the prince, and I shall punish you for doing so this time. I might send you to prison, but I will let you off with a slighter punishment than that. He then called to him, the professor of motto painting, and ordered him to paint a suitable motto on the top of the curious one's bald head. The professor immediately took a little pot of black paint and with a fine brush, he quickly painted a motto on the smooth white paint of the curious one. The glass cap was then replaced, and the motto, which was beautifully painted, was seen to show quite plainly through the top of the cap. All the professors gathered around to see the motto, and they, as well as the prince, laughed very heartily when they read it. The prince then called his son and told him to read the motto. You must understand, he said to him, that this is not done to annoy or to make fun of this little person. It is a punishment, and may do him more good than locking him up in a cell. The moment the curious one was released, he ran into the street, and asked the first person he met to please read the motto that was painted on his head and tell him what it was. The man read it and burst out laughing, but he would not tell him what the motto was. Many other people were asked, but some of them said there was nothing there, and others simply laughed and walked away. Devoured by his desire to know what the motto was, the curious one ran to the end, feeling sure that his friends would relieve his anxiety. But they laughed just as the others had done, and even little Volma told him that there was nothing there. This he did not believe, or he had felt the paint on his skin, and so he went to his room and holding a looking glass over his head tried to read the motto. There was something there that he could not see plainly enough, but the words appeared in the glass not only to be written backward, but upside down, for the professor had stood behind him when he painted them. So he had to give it up and despair, and for the rest of his stay in the city, he wondered about vainly trying to get someone to tell him what was written on his head. This was the only thing that he now wished to find out. Why don't you wash it off if it gives you so much trouble, asked the ordinary man. A little oil would quickly remove it. Wash it off, cried the curious one, then I should never know what it was. I would not wash it off for the world. After the prince had consulted with the professors, he concluded, solely because he was afraid of offending the giants, to agree to the Goudre's proposal. It will not matter so very much, he said, as he only wishes his daughter to attend the school for one week, it seems. The ordinary man was very much opposed to this plan of getting an education in a week. He thought it was too short a time, not only for Volma, but for himself, where he wished his engagement to last as long as possible. But the Goudre would not listen to any objections. His daughter had an extraordinary mind in a week was long enough for her. He took her to the school and desired each professor to tell him, in turn, all about the branch of learning he taught, and thus get through with the matter without loss of time. Then each day, while his daughter was in school, he and his party and company with the dwarf giant and under the guidance of the ordinary man, visited all the sights and wonders of the city. As for Volma, she did not study anything as children generally study. She went from room to room, asking questions, listening to explanations and paying the strictest attention to the manner in which the little prince studied and recited his lessons. The professors did not pretend to tell her as the Goudre had desired all about their different branches. They knew that would be folly, but they gave her all the information they could and were astonished to find she had already learned so much from her mother. In exactly a week, the Goudre brought his visit to a close. He took leave of the prince, giving him a diamond, handsomer than any other among his treasures. He bade the dwarf giant goodbye, and then with his party, mounted on the 11 camels, he rode away until he came to the mountains, where paying the ordinary man twice as much as he had promised, he left him to return to the city with the animals and proceed it for the rest of the journey on foot. There now he cried to his wife when he had reached home. Did I not tell you, I never fail in anything. My daughter has been to the best school in the world and her education is finished. My dear Volma said her mother to her when they were alone. What did you learn in the great city? Oh mother dear said Volma, I learned ever so much. I learned for one thing, that the largest dwarf is no bigger than the smallest giant, and that neither of them is larger than an ordinary man. And at the school, I learned that it takes years and years to study properly, all that I should know. And I found out how the little prince studies and how he recites. And I have a list of the books and parchments and other things that I need for my education. And now dear mother, we will get those things and we will study them together here at home. This they did, and gradually little Volma became very well educated. Every year the young prince came to see her and when she was about 20 years old, he married her and took her away to the great city of which he was now ruler. Volma's mother used to make her long visits, but her father Selvam came to see her. He liked to stay where he was bigger than anybody else. The dwarf giant went home in very good spirits. He found out that a very small giant is as large as an ordinary man, and that satisfied him. As for the curious one, as soon as he reached home, he gathered together a lot of small-looking glasses and so arranged them that by having one reflect into another and that into another and so on, he at last saw the reflection on the top of his head with the letters there on, right side up and in the proper order, and he read these words. There is nothing here. Now, what does that mean, he cried? Did that motto professor mean hair or brains? He never found out. End of chapter five.