do
when you feel lonely. Lay your head gently down on the cushion of the
armchair and say, 'Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story'.

"The chair was made by a clever fairy, who lived in the forest when I
was young, and she gave it to me because she knew nobody could keep what
they got hold of better than I could. Remember, you must never ask a
story more than once in the day. If there is any need to travel, you
have only to seat yourself in it and say, 'Chair of my grandmother, take
me such a way'. It will carry you wherever you wish. But mind to oil the
wheels before you set out, for I have sat on it these forty years in
that same corner."

Having said this, Dame Frostyface set forth to see her aunt in the north
country. Snowflower gathered wood for the fire, and looked after the
hens and cat, as she had always done. She baked herself a cake or two of
the barley meal; but, when the evening came, the cottage looked lonely.
Then Snowflower remembered her grandmother's words, and, laying her head
gently down, she said: "Chair of my grandmother, tell me a story".

Hardly were the words spoken, when a clear voice from under the velvet
cushion began a new and most wonderful tale, which surprised Snowflower
so much that she forgot to be afraid. After that the good girl was
lonely no more. Every morning she baked a barley cake, and every evening
the chair told her a new story. But she could never find out to whom the
voice belonged, though Snowflower showed her thanks by keeping bright
the oaken back and dusting the velvet cushion, till the chair looked as
good as new.

The swallows came and built in the eaves, and the daisies grew thicker
than ever at the door, but great troubles fell upon Snowflower. In spite
of all her care she forgot to clip the hens' wings, and they flew away
one morning to visit their friends the pheasants, who lived far in the
forest. The cat went away to see its friends. The barley meal was eaten
up, except two handfuls, and Snowflower had often looked out in hope of
seeing the grey cloak, but Dame Frostyface did not come back.

"My grandmother stays long," said Snowflower to herself; "and by and by
there will be nothing left to eat. If I could get to her, perhaps she
would tell me what to do. Surely there is good need for me to travel."

Next day, at sunrise, Snowflower oiled the wheels of the chair, baked a
cake out of the last of the meal, took it in her lap by way of food for
the journey,