sugar-plum; but after finding it to be a pill, no amount of sugar
coating will make it anything but medicine. And all boys and girls are
alike in this, and will be so, let us hope, to the end of time. Even we
old fellows recall those old-time stories with something of the same
awe-struck admiration, and something of the same unquestioning belief,
with which we listened to them, I don't know how many years ago. We
sneer at the improbabilities and inconsistencies of modern fiction; but
who thinks of being startled at the charming incongruities, the bold but
fascinating impossibilities, of Cinderella, and Aladdin, and Puss in
Boots? Don't we in our heart of hearts still believe that, a long time
ago, before men grew too wicked for them, the gentle fairies really
lived in their jewelled palaces under ground, and came out, now and
then, to protect the youth and beauty they loved from giants, and
dragons, and malicious genii, and all manner of evil things? I declare I
should be ashamed of myself if I did not; and I am sure that none of us,
who are good for anything, have altogether lost that old belief; and
when we look back at those days of young romance, and remember the
thrill with which we read of Bluebeard's punishment, and Beauty's
reward, we feel that it would be better for us if they had more of that
old childlike faith. And so I encourage my youngsters to read and listen
to, over and over again, the same old stories that, when I was a boy,
warmed my young imagination, and to eschew the dismal allegories with
which well-meaning but short-sighted writers try to supply the places of
Jack the Giant-killer and all his marvellous family. And so I was almost
as pleased as the children, when I saw, from its quaint and grotesque
pictures, that their treasure-trove was really a book of real
old-fashioned fairy stories.

Of course, nothing would do but that the bedtime should be put off, and
that I should read one, at least, of the stories to the young folks. As
my selection won their unqualified admiration, and they are, as I have
said, good critics, I send it to you for the benefit of your little
people. Your studies in the Norse languages have perhaps made you
familiar with the original of it; but I think it will be new to most
boys and girls.

Your old chum,

PHILIP.

_The Story._

I.

Once upon a time there was a peasant, who had three sons, Peter, Paul,
and John. Peter was tall, stout, rosy and good-nature