new that she
kept it in a cabinet in her chamber, where she could find it always.

Now it happened that a waiting-maid, in cleaning out this cabinet,
had, the very day before knocked down the phial, which was broken in a
thousand pieces, and all the contents were lost. Very much alarmed,
she then remembered seeing, in a cabinet belonging to the king, a
similar phial. This she fetched, and put in the place of the other
one, in which was the water of beauty. But the king's phial contained
the water of death. It was a poison, used to destroy great
criminals--that is, noblemen, gentlemen, and such like. Instead of
hanging them or cutting their heads off, like common people, they were
compelled to wash their faces with this water; upon which they fell
asleep, and woke no more. So it happened that the king, taking up this
phial, believing it to be the water of beauty, washed his face with
it, fell asleep, and--died.

Cabriole heard the news, and, gliding in and out among the crowd which
clustered round the young and lovely widow, whispered softly to
her--"Madam, do not forget poor Avenant." If she had been disposed to
do so, the sight of his little dog would have been enough to remind
her of him--his many sufferings, and his great fidelity. She rose up,
without speaking to anybody, and went straight to the tower where
Avenant was confined. There, with her own hands, she struck off his
chains, and putting a crown of gold on his head, and a purple mantle
on his shoulders, said to him, "Be king--and my husband."

Avenant could not refuse; for in his heart he had loved her all the
time. He threw himself at her feet, and then took the crown and
sceptre, and ruled her kingdom like a king. All the people were
delighted to have him as their sovereign. The marriage was celebrated
in all imaginable pomp, and Avenant and the Fair One with Golden Locks
lived and reigned happily together all their days.

THE BUTTERFLY.

In the time of the illustrious Merinous, it was indeed a pleasure to
be a king; the laws were just, the people obedient, and peace was over
the land. This monarch would have been the happiest of men, but for
the continual complaints of his consort, which tore his very heart in
twain. She wept continually for her daughters, nineteen of whom had
perished in the flower of youth. The Fairy of the Fountain had
promised a twentieth; but years passed away in fruitless expectation.
"You have neglected to do the fairy