ly said:

'Yes, thus it must be; go and bid farewell to my father and mother, but
if they offer you a present, see that you take nothing but my father's
ring and my mother's casket.'

[Illustration: The Girl asks the Snakes for the ring & Casket]

So she went to the parent snakes, who wept bitterly at the thought of
losing her, and offered her gold and jewels as much as she could carry
in remembrance of them. But the girl shook her head and pushed the
shining heap away from her.

'I shall never forget you, never,' she said in a broken voice, 'but the
only tokens I will accept from you are that little ring and this old
casket.'

The two snakes looked at each other in dismay. The ring and the casket
were the only things they did not want her to have. Then after a short
pause they spoke.

'Why do you want the ring and casket so much? Who has told you of them?'

'Oh, nobody; it is just my fancy,' answered she. But the old snakes
shook their heads and replied:

'Not so; it is our son who told you, and, as he said, so it must be. If
you need food, or clothes, or a house, tell the ring and it will find
them for you. And if you are unhappy or in danger, tell the casket and
it will set things right.' Then they both gave her their blessing, and
she picked up her baby and went her way.

She walked for a long time, till at length she came near the town where
her husband and his father dwelt. Here she stopped under a grove of palm
trees, and told the ring that she wanted a house.

'It is ready, mistress,' whispered a queer little voice which made her
jump, and, looking behind her, she saw a lovely palace made of the
finest woods, and a row of slaves with tall fans bowing before the door.
Glad indeed was she to enter, for she was very tired, and, after eating
a good supper of fruit and milk which she found in one of the rooms,
she flung herself down on a pile of cushions and went to sleep with her
baby beside her.

Here she stayed quietly, and every day the baby grew taller and
stronger, and very soon he could run about and even talk. Of course the
neighbours had a great deal to say about the house which had been built
so quickly--so very quickly--on the outskirts of the town, and invented
all kinds of stories about the rich lady who lived in it. And by and
bye, when the king returned with his son from the wars, some of these
tales reached his ears.

'It is really very odd about that house under the palms,' he said to