ards came to a little house, made of branches and the bark of
trees; a large wild apple-tree bent over it, as if it would shower down
all its blessings on the roof, where roses were blooming. The long stems
twined round the gable, on which there hung a small bell.

Was it that which people had heard? Yes, everybody was unanimous on the
subject, except one, who said that the bell was too small and too fine
to be heard at so great a distance, and besides it was very different
tones to those that could move a human heart in such a manner. It was a
king's son who spoke; whereon the others said, "Such people always want
to be wiser than everybody else."

They now let him go on alone; and as he went, his breast was filled more
and more with the forest solitude; but he still heard the little bell
with which the others were so satisfied, and now and then, when the
wind blew, he could also hear the people singing who were sitting at tea
where the confectioner had his tent; but the deep sound of the bell rose
louder; it was almost as if an organ were accompanying it, and the tones
came from the left hand, the side where the heart is placed. A rustling
was heard in the bushes, and a little boy stood before the King's Son, a
boy in wooden shoes, and with so short a jacket that one could see what
long wrists he had. Both knew each other: the boy was that one among
the children who could not come because he had to go home and return his
jacket and boots to the innkeeper's son. This he had done, and was now
going on in wooden shoes and in his humble dress, for the bell sounded
with so deep a tone, and with such strange power, that proceed he must.

"Why, then, we can go together," said the King's Son. But the poor
child that had been confirmed was quite ashamed; he looked at his wooden
shoes, pulled at the short sleeves of his jacket, and said that he was
afraid he could not walk so fast; besides, he thought that the bell must
be looked for to the right; for that was the place where all sorts of
beautiful things were to be found.

"But there we shall not meet," said the King's Son, nodding at the same
time to the poor boy, who went into the darkest, thickest part of the
wood, where thorns tore his humble dress, and scratched his face and
hands and feet till they bled. The King's Son got some scratches too;
but the sun shone on his path, and it is him that we will follow, for he
was an excellent and resolute youth.

"I must and wil