thick that a knife could cut
it--all these were to be found in the King's kitchen.

There were dishes of gold and silver upon which to serve the fine
foods, and a hothouse of rare flowers with which to deck the table,
and linen as fine as a cobweb and as beautiful in pattern as
snowflakes to cover it. Oh, a thanksgiving day in the castle would be
very wonderful indeed, the children thought, and each hoped that he or
she would be chosen to go.

The day before this day of thanksgiving the messenger of the King came
down from the castle and went from door to door of the homes in the
village. He went first to the house of the burgomaster. It was a very
pretentious house with tall pillars in front, and it stood on a wide
street. It seemed likely that the burgomaster's child might be chosen
to go with the messenger to the castle for the thanksgiving. She was
dressed in silk, and her hair was curled, and the burgomaster had
packed a great hamper with sweets as an offering for the King.

"Are you ready to keep the feast as the King would like you to?" asked
the messenger.

"Oh, yes!" said the burgomaster's child. "I have on my best dress, and
here are plenty of sweets to eat. Will you take me?"

But the messenger shook his head, for the child was not ready.

Then the King's messenger went on until he came to the house where the
captain of the guards lived. The captain's little boy was quite sure
that he would be chosen to go with the messenger to the castle for the
thanksgiving. He wore a uniform with silver braid and buttons like
that which the guards wore. A sword hung at his side, and he wore a
soldier's cap. He held the cap in his hand, so that he could put it on
quickly.

"Are you ready to keep the thanksgiving day as the King would like you
to?" asked the messenger.

"Oh, yes!" said the child of the captain of the guards. "I have my
sword here and I can fight any one who crosses our path on the way to
the castle. Will you take me?"

But the messenger went on again and he came to the baker's shop. The
baker's boy stood at the door, dressed in his best white suit, and
holding an empty basket on his arm. He was quite sure that he would be
chosen to go to the palace, for his father's bake shop was an
important place in the village. They measured their flour carefully,
and weighed the loaves so that they might receive the utmost penny for
each. They very seldom had any crumbs left for the poor, but they were
selli