uting at the top of his voice.

Very much heated and very red in the face was the little man as he stood
before the princess, holding out to her a loaf of bread almost as large
as himself.

"This is for you," he said, in a choked voice, for he had run so far and
so fast that he could hardly speak at all. "The wise old woman of
Hollowbush sent it. Now eat, eat. Let me see what it is like--let me see
how you do it."

While the princess ate her loaf of bread with more eagerness than any
member of royalty ever displayed before or since, the gate-keeper
watched her with wondering eyes.

"Well, I never saw anything like that before," he said at length. "And
you go through that remarkable performance every day! Every day!" he
repeated, in a tone of the most intense astonishment.

"But where did you find it?" asked the princess, who was more interested
in the bread than in the gate-keeper.

"Find it!" he exclaimed. "I didn't find it. That wise old woman of
Hollowbush, who has discovered the secret of the three knocks, knocked
on the wall, and when I had opened the door, she thrust it in, saying
she would bring you a fresh loaf every day."

"Then she has not quite forgotten me," sighed the princess, thinking of
her last conversation with this same wise old lady. "But does she know
that I must stay here the rest of my life?"

"Oh yes," answered the gate-keeper, shaking his head, and looking very
wise. "That is--there is a secret--did it never occur to you, my dear
princess," he added, suddenly, "that there might be a way of making your
escape?"

"Oh, you dear delicious little gate-keeper!" exclaimed the princess,
seizing him in her arms, and tossing him up and down. "I see how it is:
you will let me out--you will do it. Oh, I am sure you will!"

"Not so fast, my dear," said the little man, struggling to free himself.
"Put me down, and I will tell you all about it. But first of all you
must promise to keep the whole matter a profound secret: if you should
tell any one, the plan would fail."

"Oh, I can keep a secret," said the princess, smiling, and beginning to
feel quite happy again.

"Well, then," said the gate-keeper, seating himself by the
fountain--which was not a fountain at all, but only an imitation very
skillfully done in aquamarine--"you are to stay here a year. Then, when
the spring comes you are to be changed into a primrose, if you will
consent to it, and grow up out of the ground like other flowers. H