am very unhappy,' cried Celandine, bursting into
tears, 'and if my services are any good to you----'

'Services!' interrupted the hag crossly. 'One has to pay for services,
and I am not above doing my own work.'

'Madam, I will serve you for nothing,' said the poor Princess, whose
spirits were sinking lower and lower. 'I will do anything you please;
all I wish is to live quietly in this lonely spot.'

'Oh! I know you are only trying to take me in,' answered she; 'and if I
do let you serve me, is it fitting that you should be so much better
dressed than I am? If I keep you, will you give me your clothes and wear
some that I will provide you with? It is true that I am getting old and
may want someone to take care of me some day.'

[Illustration]

'Oh! for pity's sake, do what you please with my clothes,' cried poor
Celandine miserably.

And the old woman hobbled off with great alacrity, and fetched a little
bundle containing a wretched dress, such as the Princess had never even
seen before, and nimbly skipped round, helping her to put it on instead
of her own rich robe, with many exclamations of:

'Saints!--what a magnificent lining! And the width of it! It will make
me four dresses at least. Why, child, I wonder you could walk under such
a weight, and certainly in my house you would not have had room to turn
round.'

So saying, she folded up the robe, and put it by with great care, while
she remarked to Celandine:

'That dress of mine certainly suits you to a marvel; be sure you take
great care of it.'

When supper-time came she went into the house, declining all the
Princess's offers of assistance, and shortly afterwards brought out a
very small dish, saying:

'Now let us sup.'

Whereupon she handed Celandine a small piece of black bread and
uncovered the dish, which contained two dried plums.

'We will have one between us,' continued the old dame; 'and as you are
the visitor, you shall have the half which contains the stone; but be
very careful that you don't swallow it, for I keep them against the
winter, and you have no idea what a good fire they make. Now, you take
my advice which won't cost you anything--and remember that it is always
more economical to buy fruit with stones on this account.'

Celandine, absorbed in her own sad thoughts, did not even hear this
prudent counsel, and quite forgot to eat her share of the plum, which
delighted the old woman, who put it by carefully for her breakfast,