e prince was
overjoyed at the words, and at the tender voice and look, and scarcely
knew how to speak. But he managed to assure her of his love, and they
soon forgot all else as they talked and talked. They talked for four
hours, and had not then said half that was in their heads to say.

Meanwhile all the rest of the people in the castle had been wakened at
the same moment as the princess, and they were now extremely hungry. The
lady-in-waiting became very impatient, and at length announced to the
princess that they all waited for her. Then the prince took the princess
by the hand; she was dressed in great splendour, but he did not hint
that she looked as he had seen pictures of his great-grandmother look;
he thought her all the more charming for that. They passed into a hall
of mirrors, where they supped, attended by the officers of the princess.
The violins and haut-boys played old but excellent pieces of music, and
after supper, to lose no time, the grand almoner married the royal
lovers in the chapel of the castle.

When they left the castle the next day to return to the prince's home,
they were followed by all the retinue of the princess. They marched down
the long avenue, and the wood opened again to let them pass. Outside
they met the prince's followers, who were overjoyed to see their master.
He turned to show them the castle, but behold! there was no castle to be
seen, and no wood; castle and wood had vanished, but the prince and
princess went gayly away, and when the old king and queen died they
reigned in their stead.

CHAPTER XVII

JACK AND THE BEAN-STALK

In the days of King Alfred, there lived a poor woman whose cottage was
situated in a remote country village, a great many miles from London.
She had been a widow some years, and had an only child named Jack, whom
she indulged to a fault. The consequence of her blind partiality was,
that Jack did not pay the least attention to any thing she said, but was
indolent, careless, and extravagant. His follies were not owing to a bad
disposition, but that his mother had never checked him. By degrees she
disposed of all she possessed--scarcely any thing remained but a cow.
The poor woman one day met Jack with tears in her eyes; her distress was
great, and for the first time in her life she could not help reproaching
him, saying, "Oh! you wicked child, by your ungrateful course of life
you have at last brought me to beggary and ruin. Cruel, cruel boy! I