not properly shaped as all other
people were, but with a crooked back and limbs! The little dwarf
frowned and the monster frowned. He struck at it, and it returned blow
for blow. What was it, he asked himself? He took the Infanta's rose
from his coat and kissed it to comfort himself, for he was afraid. The
monster had a rose, too, and kissed it also.

So the truth came to the little dwarf. It was he who was misshapen and
ugly to look at; a mirror had shown him. He could not bear it and he
fell, crying, to the floor.

At that moment the Infanta, herself, came in through the open door,
and when she saw the ugly little dwarf lying on the ground and beating
it with his clenched hands, she went off into shouts of happy
laughter.

"His dancing was funny," said the Infanta, "but his acting is funnier
still. He is almost as good as the puppets," and she clapped her
hands.

But the little dwarf never looked up, and his sobs grew fainter and
fainter, and suddenly he gave a curious gasp and clutched his side.
And then he fell back, and lay quite still.

"That was splendid!" said the Infanta, "and now you must get up and
dance for me!"

But the little dwarf made no answer.

The Infanta stamped her foot, and called to the Court Chamberlain.

"My funny little dwarf is sulking," she cried. "You must wake him up
and tell him to dance for me!"

So the Chamberlain came in from the terrace where he had been walking
and bent over the dwarf, tapping him on his cheek with his embroidered
glove.

But the little dwarf never moved.

The Chamberlain looked grave, and he knelt beside the dwarf, putting
his hand on his heart. And after a few moments he rose up, and making
a low bow to the Infanta, said,

"My beautiful Princess, your funny little dwarf will never dance
again. It is a pity, for he is so ugly that he might have made the
King smile."

"But why will he not dance again?" asked the Infanta, laughing.

"Because his heart is broken," answered the Chamberlain.

And the Infanta frowned, and her rose-leaf lips curled in scorn. "For
the future let those who come to play with me have no hearts," she
cried, and she ran out into the garden.

THE PRICKLY BUSH

It was the only growing thing in the whole, beautiful garden that was
prickly. It stood beside the sunny path, so low that the white rabbit
could jump over it. It longed to spread its branches across the path
to be touched by the gardener and the children, but