single device of one of the arts in question, he surpassed every one
of the competitors in his own craft, won the favour of the king and the
office he wished to confer, and, if I remember rightly, gained at length
the king's daughter to boot.

For a long time Willie had not uttered a single exclamation, and when
the old woman looked up, fancying he must be asleep, she saw, to her
disappointment, a cloud upon his face--amounting to a frown.

"What's the matter with you, Willie, my chick?" she asked. "Have you got
a headache?"

"No, thank you, Mrs Wilson," answered Willie; "but I don't like that
story at all."

"I'm sorry for that. I thought I should be sure to please you this time;
it is one I never told you before, for I had quite forgotten it myself
till this very afternoon. Why don't you like it?"

"Because he was a cheat. _He_ couldn't do the things; it was only the
fairy's wand that did them."

"But he was such a good lad, and had been so kind to the fairy."

"That makes no difference. He _wasn't_ good. And the fairy wasn't good
either, or she wouldn't have set him to do such wicked things."

"They weren't wicked things. They were all first-rate--everything that
he made--better than any one else could make them."

"But he didn't make them. There wasn't one of those poor fellows he
cheated that wasn't a better man than he. The worst of them could do
something with his own hands, and I don't believe he could do anything,
for if he had ever tried he would have hated to be such a sneak. He
cheated the king, too, and the princess, and everybody. Oh! shouldn't
I like to have been there, and to have beaten him wand and all! For
somebody might have been able to make the things better still, if he had
only known how."

Mrs Wilson was disappointed--perhaps a little ashamed that she had not
thought of this before; anyhow she grew cross; and because she was
cross, she grew unfair, and said to Willie--

"You think a great deal of yourself, Master Willie! Pray what could
those idle little hands of yours do, if you were to try?"

"I don't know, for I haven't tried," answered Willie.

"It's a pity you shouldn't," she rejoined, "if you think they would turn
out so very clever."

She didn't mean anything but crossness when she said this--for which
probably a severe rheumatic twinge which just then passed through
her shoulder was also partly to blame. But Willie took her up quite
seriously, and asked in a tone that s