speak.

"Perhaps, if we were to send for Martin," he suggested, "her royal
Highness might consent to be comforted."

"Who is Martin?" demanded the King.

"He is my son," said the Prime Minister, apologetically; "and he spends
his days either dreaming by himself or playing with the Princess
Petulant. He will never be Prime Minister," he added sadly, "but he
might think of a way to amuse the Princess."

So the King dismissed the council with much relief and sent for Martin
to come and play with his daughter. Martin walked straight up to the
royal nursery and found the spoilt little Princess still crying on the
floor. So down on the floor sat Martin too; and he looked at her very
solemnly out of his round, serious eyes, and he asked her why she was
crying.

"I want a new toy," she pouted. "I am tired of all my old toys. Don't
you think you can find me a new toy to play with, Martin?"

"If I do," said Martin, "will you promise not to be cross when I run
faster than you do?"

The Princess nodded.

"And will you promise not to mind when I don't want to play any more?"

The Princess nodded again.

"And will you promise not to call me sulky when I don't feel inclined
to talk?" continued Martin.

"Yes, yes!" cried Princess Petulant. "You won't be long before you
find it, will you, Martin?"

"In four weeks from now," said the Prime Minister's son, "you will have
me with you again."

"And I shall have my new toy," said the Princess Petulant, sighing
contentedly.

Now, Martin was one of the few children who can see the fairies. He
knew how to coax the flower fairies to speak to him, and how to find
the wood fairies when they hid among the ferns, and how to laugh back
when the wymps made fun of him; and, above all, he knew how to find his
way to Bobolink, the Purple Enchanter, who knows everything. And he
found his way to Bobolink, on the evening of that very same day.

Bobolink, the Purple Enchanter, sat on his amethyst throne in the
middle of a grove of deadly nightshade. He was the ugliest enchanter
any one has ever seen; and on each side of him sat an enormous purple
toad with an ugly purple smile on his face. Even the sun's rays shone
purple in the home of the Purple Enchanter; and Martin stared at him
for a whole minute without speaking. For, although Martin was two
years older than the little Princess Petulant, he was not a very big
boy for all that; and there was something that made him feel