is astonished
her so much, that she stopped crying and looked up to see what it was.
There stood a little pine dwarf, holding his hands to his ears.

"Dear, dear!" crooned the pine dwarf in his soft voice. "What are you
making such a noise for?"

"I am crying because Martin has not come back," said the Princess,
sorrowfully. "He promised to fetch me a new toy, and he has never
broken his promise before. I do wish he would come back. Even if he
does n't bring me a new toy, I wish he would come back."

"Ah," said the pine dwarf, smiling, "now I think I can help you. But
you must not cry any more; it is almost as bad as the noise they are
making in the country where Martin is imprisoned."

"Oh!" cried Princess Petulant, clapping her hands; "do you _really_
know where Martin is?"

"Come along with me and see," said the pine dwarf. The next thing the
Princess knew was that she was gliding through the air in the most
delicious manner possible; and she never stopped until she found
herself by the side of the waterfall, that stands at the edge of the
country where they make conversation.

"I cannot take you any further," said the pine dwarf; "because there is
so much noise down there that it would blow me into little pieces at
once. Follow the stream along until it brings you to a glass palace,
and there you will find Martin waiting for you. Whatever you do,
though, you must not speak a word to any one until you find him. Do
you think you can do this?"

The Princess was thoughtful for a whole minute.

"I can do it if I stop up my ears with cotton wool," she said. "I am
quite certain I should speak if I heard any one talking to me."

The pine dwarf smiled again; and a linnet, who had overheard their
conversation, kindly offered the Princess a piece of cotton wool from
the nest he was making; and she thanked him as charmingly as a Princess
should, and immediately stuffed it into her two little pink ears. Then
she kissed her hand to the good little pine dwarf, and ran away along
the stream; and she never stopped running until she reached the
magnificent, glittering glass palace; and there she saw Martin right in
the middle of it, sitting at the table with his head in his hands.

"I do believe he is crying!" thought Princess Petulant; and she very
nearly cried too at the mere thought of it, for no one had ever seen
the Prime Minister's son cry before. She picked up a stone instead,
however, and sent it right