viving, gaily said, "I know you, in
spite of your disguise; follow my advice: when you arrive at the rock,
remain at the bottom and begin to sing the sweetest song you know; the
green bird will listen to you; you must then pretend to go to sleep;
when it sees me, it will come down to peck me, and at that moment you
will be able to seize it."

All this fell out as the Dove foretold. The green bird begged for
liberty. "First," said Belle-Etoile, "I wish that thou wouldst restore
my three brothers to me."

"Under my left wing there is a red feather," said the bird: "pull it
out, and touch the rock with it."

The Princess hastened to do as she was instructed; the rock split from
the top to the bottom: she entered with a victorious air the hall in
which stood the three Princes with many others; she ran towards Cheri,
who did not know her in her helmet and male attire, and could neither
speak nor move. The green bird then told the Princess she must rub the
eyes and mouth of all those she wished to disenchant with the red
feather, which good office she did to all.

The three Princes and Belle-Etoile hastened to present themselves to the
King; and when Belle-Etoile showed her treasures, the little green bird
told him that the Princes Petit-Soleil and Heureux and the Princess
Belle-Etoile were his children, and that Prince Cheri was his nephew.
Queen Blondine, who had mourned for them all these years, embraced them,
and the wicked Queen-Mother and old Feintise were justly punished. And
the King, who thought his nephew Cheri the handsomest man at Court,
consented to his marriage with Belle-Etoile. And lastly, to make
everyone happy, the King sent for the Corsair and his wife, who gladly
came.

[Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration]

AN ALPHABET OF OLD FRIENDS.

A

A carrion crow sat on an oak,
Watching a tailor shape his cloak.
"Wife, bring me my old bent bow,
That I may shoot yon carrion crow."
The tailor he shot and missed his mark,
And shot his own sow quite through the heart.
"Wife, wife, bring brandy in a spoon,
For our old sow is in a swoon."

B

Ba, ba, black sheep,
Have you any wool?
Yes, marry, have I,
Three bags full.

One for my master,
One for my dame,
But none for the little boy
That cries in the lane.

C

_Hen._ Cock, cock, I have la-a-ayed!
_Cock._ Hen, hen, that's well sa-a-ayed!
_Hen._ Although I have to go bar