64 THE GOLDEN TOUCH.

solate mood, regretting the downfall of his hopes, and
kept growing sadder and sadder, until the earliest sun-
beam shone through the window, and gilded the ceiling
over his head. It seemed to Midas that this bright yel-
low sunbeam was reflected in rather a singular way on
the white covering of the bed. Looking more closely,
what was his astonishment and delight, when he found
that this linen fabric had been transmuted to what seemed
a woven texture of the purest and brightest gold! The
Golden Touch had come to him, with the first sunbeam !

Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, and ran
about the room, grasping at. everything that happened to
be in his way. He seized one of the bedposts, and it be-
came immediately a fluted golden pillar. He pulled aside
a window-curtain, in order to admit a clear spectacle of
the wonders which he was performing; and the tassel
grew heavy in his hand,—a mass of gold. He took up
a book from the table. At his first touch, it assumed
the appearance of such a splendidly bound and gilt-edged
volume as one often meets with, nowadays; but, on run-
ning his fingers through the leaves, behold! it was a bun-
dle of thin golden plates, in which all the wisdom of the
book had grown illegible. He hurriedly put on his
clothes, and was enraptured to see himself in a magnifi-
cent suit of gold cloth, which retained its flexibility and
softness, although it burdened him a little with its weight.
He drew out his handkerchief, which little Marygold had
hemmed for him. That was likewise gold, with the dear
child’s neat and pretty stitches running all along the bor-
der, in gold thread!