o tell you," he said to the
stork-mamma.

"Let that be," she replied. "Remember that I'm hatching the eggs, and
you might agitate me, and I might do them a mischief."

"You must know it," he continued. "She has arrived here--the daughter
of our host in Egypt--she has dared to undertake the journey here--and
she's gone!"

"She who came from the race of the fairies? Oh, tell me all about it!
You know I can't bear to be kept long in suspense when I'm hatching
eggs."

"You see, mother, she believed in what the doctor said, and you told
me true. She believed that the moor flowers would bring healing to her
sick father, and she has flown here in swan's plumage, in company with
the other swan-princesses, who come to the North every year to renew
their youth. She has come here, and she is gone!"

"You are much too long-winded!" exclaimed the stork-mamma, "and the
eggs might catch cold. I can't bear being kept in such suspense!"

"I have kept watch," said the stork-papa; "and to-night, when I went
into the reeds--there where the marsh ground will bear me--three swans
came. Something in their flight seemed to say to me, 'Look out! That's
not altogether swan; it's only swan's feathers!' Yes, mother, you have
a feeling of intuition just as I have; you know whether a thing is
right or wrong."

"Yes, certainly," she replied; "but tell me about the princess. I'm
sick of hearing of the swan's feathers."

"Well, you know that in the middle of the moor there is something like
a lake," continued stork-papa. "You can see one corner of it if you
raise yourself a little. There, by the reeds and the green mud, lay a
great alder stump; and on this the three swans sat, flapping their
wings and looking about them. One of them threw off her plumage, and I
immediately recognized her as our house princess from Egypt! There she
sat, with no covering but her long black hair. I heard her tell the
others to pay good heed to the swan's plumage, while she dived down
into the water to pluck the flowers which she fancied she saw growing
there. The others nodded, and picked up the empty feather dress and
took care of it. 'I wonder what they will do with it?' thought I; and
perhaps she asked herself the same question. If so, she got an
answer--a very practical answer--for the two rose up and flew away
with her swan's plumage. 'Do thou dive down,' they cried; 'thou shalt
never see Egypt again! Remain thou here in the moor!' And so saying,
they tore