"Well, that was easy enough," said the stepmother and agreed to this trial. Well, the princess with the long nose set to washing the best she could, but the more she washed the bigger grew the stains. "Why, you cannot wash," said the old witch, her stepmother; "let me try!"--but no sooner did she take the shirt than it got still worse, and the more she washed and rubbed the bigger and blacker the stains grew. So did the other trolls try their hands at washing, but the longer they worked at it the dirtier the shirt grew, till at last it looked as if it had been up the chimney. "Ah, you are not worth anything, the whole lot of you!" said the prince; "there's a poor girl under the window just outside here, and I am sure she can wash much better than any of you. Come in, my girl!" he shouted out to her.--Yes, she would come in.--"Can you wash this shirt clean?" asked the prince.--"Well, I don't know," she said, "but I will try." And no sooner had she taken the shirt and dipped it in the water, than it was as white as the driven snow, if not whiter. "Yes, you shall be my wife," said the prince. But the old witch flew into such a rage that she burst; and the princess with the long nose and all the trolls must have burst also, for I never heard of them since. The prince and his bride then set free all the people who had been carried off and imprisoned there, and so they took as much gold and silver with them as they could carry, and moved far away from the castle which lay east of the sun and west of the moon. * * * * * Be good, dear child, and let who will be clever; _Do_ noble things, not _dream_ them all day long, And so make life, death, and that _vast forever_, One grand, sweet song. CHARLES KINGSLEY. [Illustration] THE BABY IN THE HOME. GEO. MAC DONALD. Where did you come from, baby, dear? Out of the everywhere into here. Where did you get the eyes so blue? Out of the sky as I came through. Where did you get that little tear? I found it waiting when I got here. What makes your forehead so smooth and high? A soft hand stroked it as I went by. What makes your cheek like a warm, white rose? I saw something better than anyone knows. [Illustration: "FEET, WHENCE DID YOU COME."] Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss? Three angels gave me at once a kiss. Where did you get this pretty ear? God spoke, and it came out to hear. Where did you get those arms and hands? Love made itself into hooks and bands. Feet, whence did you come, you darling things? From the same box as the cherub's wings. How did they all come just to be you? God thought of me and so I grew. But how did you come to us, my dear? God thought about you, and so I am here." [Illustration] [Illustration] SATURDAY AFTERNOON. N. P. WILLIS.