me and gone!"

Raduz and Ludmila rode on and on until they neared Raduz' native city.
There they met a man of whom Raduz asked the news.

"News indeed!" the man said. "The king and his three older sons are
dead. Only the queen is alive and she cries night and day for her
youngest son who went out into the world and has never been heard of
since. The whole city is in an uproar as to who shall be the new
king."

When Raduz heard this he said to Ludmila: "Do you, my dear Ludmila,
wait for me here outside the city while I go quickly to the palace and
let it be known that I am alive and am returned. It would not be
fitting to present you to my mother, the queen, in those ragged
clothes. As soon as I am made king I shall come for you, bringing you
a beautiful dress."

Ludmila agreed to this and Raduz left her and hurried to the castle.
His mother recognized him at once and ran with open arms to greet him.
She wanted to kiss him but he wouldn't let her. The news of his
return flew abroad and he was immediately proclaimed king. A great
feast was spread and all the people ate and drank and made merry.

Fatigued with his journey and with the excitement of his return, Raduz
lay down to rest. While he slept his mother came in and kissed him on
both cheeks. Instantly Yezibaba's curse was fulfilled and all memory
of Ludmila left him.

Poor Ludmila waited for his return but he never came. Then she knew
what must have happened. Heartbroken and lonely she found a spot near
a farmhouse that commanded a view of the castle, and she stood there
day after day hoping to see Raduz. She stood there so long that
finally she took root and grew up into a poplar tree that was so
beautiful that soon throughout the countryside people began talking
about it. Every one admired it but the young king. He when he looked
at it always felt unhappy and he supposed this was because it
obstructed the view from his window. At last he ordered it to be cut
down.

The farmer near whose house it stood begged hard to have it saved, but
the king was firm.

Shortly after the poplar was cut down there grew up under the king's
very window a pretty little pear tree that bore golden pears. It was a
wonderful little tree. No matter how many pears you picked in the
evening, by the next morning the tree would again be full.

The king loved the little tree and was forever talking about it. The
old queen, on the other hand, disliked it.

"I wish that tree would d