"Do you mean that dandelion down makes better beds?" asked Vance, whose wits were being sharpened by his travels.

The other nodded.

"Then why in the world couldn't you say so? You are not dumb."

"Breath," returned the little thin man, briefly.

He moved from the bunch of thistles which he had stripped to the next, turning as he did so and carefully picking up his footprints to use over again and save himself the trouble of making new ones.

"You are certainly the most economical man I ever saw," declared the Prince, irritably. "I wouldn't be so mean with my old footprints; n.o.body else would bother to pick them up. And as for breath, you might spare a little more of that; it doesn't cost anything."

The man paid no especial attention to these rather uncivil remarks, but went on in his work with great diligence.

"Do talk a little!" Vance said, becoming more and more impatient every moment. "At least you can tell me how to find the Crushed Strawberry Wizard?"

"Why?" asked the man, with the first show of interest he had displayed.

"I'm going in search of him."

"Wouldn't," was the little man's reply.

"Why not?"

"Dreadfully wearing on shoes," the other answered.

Then he stopped and collected the breath which he had used in this speech,--for him a very long one,--and went on steadily picking thistledown.

"But I must find him," Vance persisted, vexed anew at this reply; "where does he live?"

"Don't know," said the thistledown-gatherer, shortly.

Vance arose from the stone with an impatient flounce, and took up his box so suddenly that the teeth of all the Court chattered.

"Well," he said snappishly, "you are certainly the stingiest man I ever saw. You can't even give away a civil word."

"Oh, no!" returned the old man, with an expression of great astonishment. "Never give anything away. What will you give for your dolls?"

Now, this question might sound like pure idiocy to some people; but funnily enough it came into the head of Vance that when he had been teasing those twelve models of propriety, his sisters, a few days before, and had made their blue bead-like eyes swim with tears by taking away their playthings, he had used just those very same words to them.

He hung his head a little; but still, determined to put a bold face on the matter, he said,--

"Don't talk nonsense! Tell me the way to the Crushed Strawberry Wizard's this minute!"

But, to his surprise, where the queer old man had stood there was only a seedy black raven, very battered and ragged, but with a remarkable pair of glittering red eyes.

VI

"I must say," the raven remarked severely, "that, considering the fact that n.o.body invited you to come to this concert at all, and that you have no check for a reserved seat, it would look better in you to keep quiet and not disturb the entertainment."

"Concert!" exclaimed Vance, in bewilderment. "There isn't any concert."

"But there is going to be," returned the bird, more severely than before. "I'm going to sing myself. First, I shall sing a love-song. Be quiet!"

And without further ado he began, in a terribly hoa.r.s.e and cracked voice,--

"Snip-snap, frip-frap, Bungalee, tee hee lees; Jip-j.a.p; nip-nap, Tungatee tinum gee me strap, Bring me a bottle of cheese."

"Oh, come," exclaimed the Prince, "you must really know that that is nonsense! It certainly means nothing."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"How do you know?" demanded the raven, fixing his glittering eye on the Prince. "Do you understand the language of love?"

"No," said Vance, more humbly; "I must confess that I don't, though I've always heard it was very silly."

"Speaking of the boundaries of a king--" the raven began easily; but the Prince interrupted in great haste.

"n.o.body _was_ speaking of boundaries," he said sharply; "you made that up yourself."

"--dom," resumed the raven, calmly, paying no sort of attention to the interruption of the Prince, but c.o.c.king his head on one side and looking wickedly out of one eye, "they are very useful to know, and there are various ways of learning them. Some people learn them in the school room; that's one way: some travel; that's--"

But before he could get any farther Vance had caught up a stone and flung it at him. With a terrible croaking the raven flew up into the air in circles higher and higher until he vanished straight overhead.

"Ten to one that was G.o.dmother herself," grumbled Vance, as he picked up his box and started again along the dusty road.

All the rest of the day he travelled, growing more and more weary, until at sunset he came to a very old woman sitting beside a great tree upon the river's bank.

"Hallo!" cried Vance, not too politely.

The wrinkled old creature looked at the river, at the tree, at the sky,--everywhere, in a word, except at the travel-stained Vance.

"Come!" he said more roughly yet, "why don't you speak when you are spoken to? Do you know who I am?"

The aged crone wrinkled her forehead and lifted her grizzled eyebrows, still without looking at him.

"No," she answered coolly, "I don't know that I do. You look like a boot-black with that box on your shoulders, only that a boot-black would be more civil-spoken."

An angry retort sprang to the lips of the Prince, but before he could give vent to it a terrible little shrill sound from the box struck his ears. In sudden dismay he unslung the baby-house, and opened it to discover what was the matter with his family.

In the middle of the floor of the largest room of the baby-house were all the Court, gathered about the old King, who had fallen in a faint from hunger.

"He is starved!" cried the Queen, in a piercing wee voice of anguish.

"I am starving myself!" roared the Lord Chamberlain, in a keen though tiny roar.

"We are all starving!" shrieked the whole Court, in voices more or less audible.