"I think to the kingdom of heaven."

King Frederick William stooped down and lifted the little maiden in his arms. Tears were in his eyes as he kissed her, and said, "So be it, my child! So be it."

THE BARMECIDE FEAST.

There was once a rich old man who was called the Bar-me-cide. He lived in a beautiful palace in the midst of flowery gardens. He had every-thing that heart could wish.

In the same land there was a poor man whose name was Schac-a-bac. His clothing was rags, and his food was the sc.r.a.ps which other people had thrown away. But he had a light heart, and was as happy as a king.

Once when Schac-a-bac had not had anything to eat for a long time, he thought that he would go and ask the Bar-me-cide to help him.

The servant at the door said, "Come in and talk with our master. He will not send you away hungry."

Schacabac went in, and pa.s.sed through many beautiful rooms, looking for the Barmecide. At last he came to a grand hall where there were soft carpets on the floor, and fine pictures on the walls, and pleasant couches to lie down upon.

At the upper end of the room he saw a n.o.ble man with a long white beard. It was the Barmecide; and poor Schacabac bowed low before him, as was the custom in that country.

The Barmecide spoke very kindly, and asked what was wanted.

Schacabac told him about all his troubles, and said that it was now two days since he had tasted bread.

"Is it possible?" said the Barmecide. "You must be almost dead with hunger; and here I have plenty and to spare!"

Then he turned and called, "Ho, boy! Bring in the water to wash our hands, and then order the cook to hurry the supper."

Schacabac had not expected to be treated so kindly. He began to thank the rich man.

"Say not a word," said the Barmecide, "but let us get ready for the feast."

Then the rich man began to rub his hands as though some one was pouring water on them. "Come and wash with me," he said.

Schacabac saw no boy, nor basin, nor water. But he thought that he ought to do as he was bidden; and so, like the Barmecide, he made a pretense of washing.

"Come now," said the Barmecide, "let us have supper."

He sat down, as if to a table, and pre-tend-ed to be carving a roast.

Then he said, "Help yourself, my good friend. You said you were hungry: so, now, don't be afraid of the food."

Schacabac thought that he un-der-stood the joke, and he made pretense of taking food, and pa.s.sing it to his mouth. Then he began to chew, and said, "You see, sir, I lose no time."

"Boy," said the old man, "bring on the roast goose.--Now, my good friend, try this choice piece from the breast. And here are sweet sauce, honey, raisins, green peas, and dry figs. Help yourself, and remember that other good things are coming."

Schacabac was almost dead with hunger, but he was too polite not to do as he was bidden.

"Come," said the Barmecide, "have another piece of the roast lamb. Did you ever eat anything so de-li-cious?"

"Never in my life," said Schacabac. "Your table is full of good things."

"Then eat heartily," said the Barmecide. "You cannot please me better."

After this came the des-sert. The Barmecide spoke of sweet-meats and fruits; and Schacabac made believe that he was eating them.

"Now is there anything else that you would like?" asked the host.

"Ah, no!" said poor Schacabac. "I have indeed had great plenty."

"Let us drink, then," said the Barmecide. "Boy, bring on the wine!"

"Excuse me, my lord," said Schacabac, "I will drink no wine, for it is for-bid-den."

The Barmecide seized him by the hand. "I have long wished to find a man like you," he said. "But come, now we will sup in earnest."

He clapped his hands. Servants came, and he ordered supper. Soon they sat down to a table loaded with the very dishes of which they had pre-tend-ed to eat.

Poor Schacabac had never had so good a meal in all his life. When they had fin-ished, and the table had been cleared away, the Barmecide said,--

"I have found you to be a man of good un-der-stand-ing. Your wits are quick, and you are ready always to make the best of everything. Come and live with me, and manage my house."

And so Schacabac lived with the Barmecide many years, and never again knew what it was to be hungry.

THE ENDLESS TALE.

In the Far East there was a great king who had no work to do. Every day, and all day long, he sat on soft cush-ions and lis-tened to stories. And no matter what the story was about, he never grew tired of hearing it, even though it was very long.

"There is only one fault that I find with your story," he often said: "it is too short."

All the story-tellers in the world were in-vit-ed to his palace; and some of them told tales that were very long indeed. But the king was always sad when a story was ended.

At last he sent word into every city and town and country place, offering a prize to any one who should tell him an endless tale. He said,--

"To the man that will tell me a story which shall last forever, I will give my fairest daugh-ter for his wife; and I will make him my heir, and he shall be king after me."

But this was not all. He added a very hard con-di-tion. "If any man shall try to tell such a story and then fail, he shall have his head cut off."

The king's daughter was very pretty, and there were many young men in that country who were willing to do anything to win her. But none of them wanted to lose their heads, and so only a few tried for the prize.

One young man invented a story that lasted three months; but at the end of that time, he could think of nothing more. His fate was a warning to others, and it was a long time before another story-teller was so rash as to try the king's patience.

But one day a stran-ger from the South came into the palace.