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distinguished company, and so he asked his wife a thousand questions. All the answer he got was that the visitors were hunting for a king.

“‘I’m sure it was for me they were hunting,’ said the man. ‘How unfortunate that I was away.’

“‘Well, don’t worry,’ replied his wife. ‘If they ever intended to make you king, they’ll come back after you.’

“‘You don’t seem to think much about it,’ remarked the man, ‘but some of these days you’ll find out that you narrowly escaped being the king’s wife.’

“The nine citizens were so certain that they had found the right person to rule over their country as king, that they made haste to return to the capital city and tell the news to the eleven wise men who had sent them out. They made their report, and the eleven wise men put their heads together once more. When they had consulted together a long time, they said to the people:—

“‘There is one test by which you may know whether a king has been found. Send a messenger and ask this young man to send us a rope made of sand a hundred feet long.’

“The messenger straightway went to the house of Telambus and told him what the eleven wise men had said. His mother straightway fell to crying. But Telambus laughed at her fears.

“‘Tell the eleven wise men,’ he said to the messenger, ‘that there are various patterns of sand ropes. Let them send me a sample of the kind they want—a piece only a foot long—and I will make them one a hundred feet long.’

“The messenger returned to the eleven wise men and told them what Telambus had said. They put their heads together again and then told the people that the young man was wise enough to be their king. There was great rejoicing then, and the nine wise men who had found him went to fetch him.

“But Telambus shook his head. ‘Kings are not carried about in this way. Where are your banners and your chariots? Where are your drums and your cymbals?’

“So the nine men returned to the eleven wise men and told them what Telambus had said.

“‘He is right,’ said the eleven wise men. ‘He is a king already. Get your horses, your chariots, your banners, and your music, and bring our king in as he deserves to be brought.’

“So Telambus was made the king of that country.”

At this point Mrs. Meadows began to hunt for a knitting-needle she had dropped, and the children knew that the story was ended.

“That was a pretty good story,” said Mr. Thimblefinger. “It was short and sweet, as the king-bird said to the honey-bee.”

“Dey wuz too much kingin’ in it ter suit me. Ef folks got ter have kings, how come we ain’t got none?” asked Drusilla.

“Please tell me about the little girl with the vial of sparkling water from the Well at the End of the World,” said Sweetest Susan to Mr. Thimblefinger. “I expect she is nearly grown by this time.”

“Oh, yes,” replied Mr. Thimblefinger, “she has now grown to be quite a young lady.”

“Huh!” grunted Drusilla, “ef folks grow up dat quick, I dunner what hinder me from bein’ a ol’ gray-head ’oman by sundown.”

VI.
 
THE MAGIC RING.

“Don’t you see,” said Mr. Thimblefinger, with apparent seriousness, “that if we hadn’t left off the story of the little girl who went to the Well at the End of the World just where we did, she would have had no time to grow?”

Buster John smiled faintly, but Sweetest Susan took the statement seriously, though she said nothing. Drusilla boldly indorsed it.

“I speck dat’s so,” she said, “kaze when de lil’ gal got back home wid dat vial she wa’n’t in no fix fer ter cut up dem kind er capers what de tales tell about.”

“Certainly not,” remarked Mr. Thimblefinger, “but now she has had time to grow up to be a young lady, almost. Names go for so little down here that I haven’t told you hers. She was named Eolen. Some said it was a beautiful name, but her stepmother and her stepmother’s daughter said it was very ugly. Anyhow, that was her name, and whether it was ugly or whether it was beautiful, she had to make the best of it.

“Well, Eolen went home when the old man gave her the vial of water from the Well at the End of the World. She hid the vial beneath her apron until she reached her own room, and then she placed it at the very bottom of her little trunk,—a trunk that had belonged to her mother, who was dead.

“Nothing happened for a long time. Whenever Friday fell on the thirteenth of a month, Eolen would rub a drop of the sparkling water on her forehead, and she grew to be the loveliest young lady that ever was seen. Her stepsister was not bad-looking, but, compared with Eolen, she was ugly. The contrast between them was so great that people could not help noticing it and making remarks about it. Some of these remarks came to the ears of her stepmother.

“Now a stepmother can be just as nice and as good as anybody, but this particular stepmother cared for nothing except her own child, and she soon came to hate Eolen for being so beautiful. She had never treated the child kindly, but now she began to treat her cruelly. Eolen never told her father, but somehow he seemed to know what was going on, and he treated her more affectionately each day, as her stepmother grew more cruel.

“This lasted for some time, but finally Eolen’s father fell ill and died, and then, although she had many admirers, she was left without a friend she could confide in or rely on. To make matters worse, her stepmother produced a will in which her husband had left everything to her and nothing to Eolen. The poor girl didn’t know what to do. She knew that her father had made no such will, but how could she prove it? She happened to think of the vial of sparkling waters. She found it and turned it upside down.

“On the instant there was a loud knock at the street door. Eolen would have gone to open it, but her stepmother was there before her. She peeped from behind the curtains in the hallway, and saw a tall, richly-dressed stranger standing on the steps.

“‘I wish to see a young lady who lives here. She is the daughter of an old friend,’ said the stranger.

“The stepmother smiled very sweetly. ‘Come in. I will call her.’

“But instead of calling Eolen she called her own daughter. The girl went, but not with a good grace. She had been petted and spoiled, and was very saucy and impolite. The stranger smiled when he saw her.

“‘What was my mother doing when you saw her sitting by the Well at the End of the World?’ he asked.

“‘Do you take me for a crazy person?’ replied the girl.

“‘By no means,’ said the stranger. ‘You are not the young lady I came to see.’

“The stepmother then called Eolen and stood in the room frowning to see what was going to happen. Eolen came as soon as she was called, and the stranger seemed to be much struck by her beauty and modesty. He took her by the hand and led her to a chair.

“‘What was my mother doing when you saw her sitting by the Well at the End of the World?’ he asked.

“‘She was combing her hair,’ replied Eolen.

“‘That is true,’ remarked the stranger. ‘Yes, she was combing her hair.’ Then he turned to the stepmother and said: ‘May I see this young lady alone for a little while? I have a message for her from an old friend.’

“‘Certainly!’ the stepmother answered. ‘I hope her friend is well-to-do, for her father has died without leaving her so much as a farthing.’ Having said this, the stepmother flounced from the room.

“‘I came at your summons,’ said the stranger; ‘you turned the vial of sparkling water upside down, and now I am here to do your bidding.’

“Then Eolen told him of the death of her father, and how he had left all of his property to her stepmother. The stranger listened attentively, and while he listened played with a heavy gold ring that he wore on his third finger. When Eolen was through with her story he took this ring from his finger and handed it to her.

“‘Look through that,’ he said, ‘and tell me what you see.’

“Eolen held the ring to one of her eyes, and peeped through the golden circle. She was so surprised that she came near dropping the ring. She had held it up toward the stranger, but instead of seeing him through the ring she seemed to be looking into a room in which some person was moving about. As she continued to look, the scene appeared to be a familiar one. The room was the one her stepmother occupied—the room in which her father had died. She saw her stepmother take from her father’s private drawer a folded paper and hide it behind the mantel. Then the scene vanished, and through the ring she saw the stranger smiling at her.

“‘What you have seen happened some time ago.’ He took the ring and replaced it on his finger. ‘Your stepmother is now coming this way. She has been trying to hear what we are saying. When she comes in, do you get your father’s real will from behind the mantel and bring it to me.’

“Sure enough the stepmother came into the room silently and suddenly. She pretended to be much surprised to find any one there.

“‘You must excuse me,’ she said to the stranger. ‘I imagined I heard you take your leave some time ago.’

“‘You are excusable,’ replied the stranger. ‘I have been reflecting rather than talking. I have been thinking what could be done for your stepdaughter, who must be quite a burden to you.’

“The stepmother took this for an invitation to tell what she knew about Eolen, and you may be sure she didn’t waste any praise on the young lady. But right in the midst of it all Eolen, who had gone out, returned and handed the stranger the folded paper that had been hid behind the mantel. The stepmother recognized it and turned pale.

“‘This,’ said the stranger, opening the paper and reading it at a glance, ‘is your father’s will. I see he has left you half the property.’

“‘That is the will my husband forgot to destroy,’ cried the stepmother. ‘I have the real will.’

“‘May I see it?’ asked the stranger.

“The stepmother ran to fetch it, but when the stranger had opened it, not a line nor a word of writing could be found on it.

“‘I see you are fond of a joke,’ said the stranger, but the stepmother had fallen into a chair and sat with her face hid in her hands. ‘I am fond of a joke myself,’ continued the stranger, ‘and I think I can match yours.’

“With that the stranger took the real will, tore it in small pieces and threw it into the fireplace.

“‘What have you done?’ cried Eolen.

“‘The most difficult thing in the world,’ replied the stranger; ‘I have made this lady happy.’

“And sure enough the stepmother was smiling and thanking him.

“‘I thought you were my enemy,’ she said, ‘but now I see you are my friend indeed. How can I repay you?’

“‘By treating this young lady here as your daughter,’ he replied. ‘Have no fear,’ he said, turning to Eolen. ‘No harm can befall you.

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