hing its little lantern in the Prince's face,
it cried, "This way! My friend, the Fly, sent me to guide you to a place
of safety. Follow me and trust entirely to my guidance."

The Prince flung his mantle over his shoulder, and followed on with all
possible speed. They stopped first in the Witch's orchard, and the
Firefly held its lantern up while the Prince filled his pockets with the
fruit. The apples were gold with emerald leaves, and the cherries were
rubies, and the grapes were great bunches of amethyst. When the Prince
had filled his pockets he had enough wealth to provide for all his wants
for at least a twelvemonth.

The Firefly led him on until they came to a town where was a fine inn.
There he left him, and flew off to report the Prince's safety to the Fly
and receive the promised reward.

Here Ethelried stayed for many weeks, living like a king on the money
that the fruit jewels brought him. All this time the scissors were
becoming little and rusty, because he never once used them, as the Fairy
bade him, in unselfish service for others. But one day he bethought
himself of her command, and started out to seek some opportunity to
help somebody.

Soon he came to a tiny hut where a sick man lay moaning, while his wife
and children wept beside him. "What is to become of me?" cried the poor
peasant. "My grain must fall and rot in the field from overripeness
because I have not the strength to rise and harvest it; then indeed must
we all starve."

Ethelried heard him, and that night, when the moon rose, he stole into
the field to cut it down with the giant scissors. They were so rusty
from long idleness that he could scarcely move them. He tried to think
of some rhyme with which to command them; but it had been so long since
he had done any thinking, except for his own selfish pleasure, that his
brain refused to work.

However, he toiled on all night, slowly cutting down the grain stalk by
stalk. Towards morning the scissors became brighter and sharper, until
they finally began to open and shut of their own accord. The whole field
was cut by sunrise. Now the peasant's wife had risen very early to go
down to the spring and dip up some cool water for her husband to drink.
She came upon Ethelried as he was cutting the last row of the grain, and
fell on her knees to thank him. From that day the peasant and all his
family were firm friends of Ethelried's, and would have gone through
fire and water to serve him.