sfaction. "Such a costly breakfast before me, and
nothing that can be eaten!"

Hoping that, by dint of great dispatch, he might avoid what he now felt to
be a considerable inconvenience, King Midas next snatched a hot potato,
and attempted to cram it into his mouth, and swallow it in a hurry. But
the Golden Touch was too nimble for him. He found his mouth full, not of
mealy potato, but of solid metal, which so burnt his tongue that he roared
aloud, and, jumping up from the table, began to dance and stamp about the
room, both with pain and affright.

"Father, dear father!" cried little Marygold, who was a very affectionate
child, "pray what is the matter? Have you burnt your mouth?"

"Ah, dear child," groaned Midas dolefully, "I don't know what is to become
of your poor father!"

And, truly, my dear little folks, did you ever hear of such a pitiable
case in all your lives? Here was literally the richest breakfast that
could be set before a king, and its very richness made it absolutely good
for nothing. The poorest laborer, sitting down to his crust of bread and
cup of water, was far better off than King Midas, whose delicate food was
really worth its weight in gold. And what was to be done? Already, at
breakfast, Midas was excessively hungry. Would he be less so by
dinner-time? And how ravenous would be his appetite for supper, which must
undoubtedly consist of the same sort of indigestible dishes as those now
before him! How many days, think you, would he survive a continuance of
this rich fare?

These reflections so troubled wise King Midas, that he began to doubt
whether, after all, riches are the one desirable thing in the world, or
even the most desirable. But this was only a passing thought. So
fascinated was Midas with the glitter of the yellow metal, that he would
still have refused to give up the Golden Touch for so paltry a
consideration as a breakfast. Just imagine what a price for one meal's
victuals! It would have been the same as paying millions and millions of
money (and as many millions more as would take forever to reckon up) for
some fried trout, an egg, a potato, a hot cake, and a cup of coffee!

"It would be quite too dear," thought Midas.

Nevertheless, so great was his hunger, and the perplexity of his
situation, that he again groaned aloud, and very grievously too. Our
pretty Marygold could endure it no longer. She sat, a moment, gazing at
her father, and trying with all the might of her li