iry Blackstick said, 'Bless you, my
darling children! Now you are united and happy; and now you see what I
said from the first, that a little misfortune has done you both good.
YOU, Giglio, had you been bred in prosperity, would scarcely have
learned to read or write--you would have been idle and extravagant, and
could not have been a good King as now you will be. You, Rosalba, would
have been so flattered, that your little head might have been turned
like Angelica's, who thought herself too good for Giglio.'

'As if anybody could be good enough for HIM,' cried Rosalba.

'Oh, you, you darling!' says Giglio. And so she was; and he was just
holding out his arms in order to give her a hug before the whole
company, when a messenger came rushing in, and said, 'My Lord, the
enemy!'

'To arms!' cries Giglio.

'Oh, mercy!' says Rosalba, and fainted of course.

He snatched one kiss from her lips, and rushed FORTH TO THE FIELD of
battle!

The Fairy had provided King Giglio with a suit of armour, which was not
only embroidered all over with jewels, and blinding to your eyes to
look at, but was water-proof, gun-proof, and sword-proof; so that in the
midst of the very hottest battles His Majesty rode about as calmly as if
he had been a British Grenadier at Alma. Were I engaged in fighting for
my country, _I_ should like such a suit of armour as Prince Giglio wore;
but, you know, he was a Prince of a fairy tale, and they always have
these wonderful things.

Besides the fairy armour, the Prince had a fairy horse, which would
gallop at any pace you pleased; and a fairy sword, which would lengthen
and run through a whole regiment of enemies at once. With such a weapon
at command, I wonder, for my part, he thought of ordering his army out;
but forth they all came, in magnificent new uniforms, Hedzoff and the
Prince's two college friends each commanding a division, and His Majesty
prancing in person at the head of them all.

Ah! if I had the pen of a Sir Archibald Alison, my dear friends, would
I not now entertain you with the account of a most tremendous shindy?
Should not fine blows be struck? dreadful wounds be delivered? arrows
darken the air? cannon balls crash through the battalions? cavalry
charge infantry? infantry pitch into cavalry? bugles blow; drums beat;
horses neigh; fifes sing; soldiers roar, swear, hurray; officers shout
out 'Forward, my men!' 'This way, lads!' 'Give it 'em, boys!' 'Fight for
King Giglio, and the