THE STOOL OF FORTUNE

After that the soldier knew his way quickly enough.
He clapped his feather cap upon his head and into the
palace he went, and from one room to another, until at
last he came to where the princess sat weeping and wail-
ing, with her pretty eyes red from long crying.

Then the soldier took off his cap again,.and you may
guess what sounds of rejoicing followed. They sat down
beside one another, and after the soldier had eaten, the
princess told him all that had happened to her; how the
magician had found the stool, and how he had transported
the palace to this far-away land; how he came every
day and begged her to marry him—which she would
rather die than do.

To all this the soldier listened, and when she had ended
her story he bade her to dry her tears, for, after all, the
jug was only cracked, and not past mending. Then he
told her that when the sorcerer came again that day
she should say so and so and so and so, and that he
would be by to help her with his feather cap upon his
head.

After that they sat talking together as happy as two
turtle-doves, until the magician’s foot was heard on the
stairs. And then the soldier clapped his feather cap upon
his head just as the door opened.

“Snuff, snuff!” said the magician, sniffing the air,
“here is a smell of Christian blood.”

“Yes,” said the princess, “that is so; there came a
pedlar to-day, but after all he did not stay long.”

“He'd better not come again,” said the magician, “ or
it will be the worse for him. But tell me, will you
marry me?”

“No,” said the princess, ‘I shall not marry you until

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