the cook that had run away with her own true love that was the very tall but very tipsy soldier, danced a dance of eighteen cooks before the angelic baby, who forgot his swelled face and his black eye, and crowed with joy. And so then, once more the Princess Alicia saw King Watkins the First, her father, standing in the doorway looking on, and he said, ‘What have you been doing, Alicia?’ ‘Cooking and contriving, papa.’ ‘What else have you been doing, Alicia?’ ‘Keeping the children light-hearted, papa.’ ‘Where is the magic fish-bone, Alicia? ‘In my pocket, papa.’ ‘I thought you had lost it?’ ‘O, no, papa!’ ‘Or forgotten it?’ ‘No, indeed, papa.’ The king then sighed so heavily, and seemed so low-spirited, and sat down so miserably, leaning his head upon his hand, and his elbow upon the kitchen-table pushed away in the corner, that the seventeen princes and princesses crept softly out of the kitchen, and left him alone with the Princess Alicia and the angelic baby. ‘What is the matter, papa?’ ‘I am dreadfully poor, my child.’ ‘Have you no money at all, papa?’ ‘None, my child.’ ‘Is there no way of getting any, papa?’ ‘No way,’ said the king. ‘I have tried very hard, and I have tried all ways.’ When she heard those last words, the Princess Alicia began to put her hand into the pocket where she kept the magic fish-bone. ‘Papa,’ said she, ‘when we have tried very hard, and tried all ways, we must have done our very, very best?’ ‘No doubt, Alicia.’ ‘When we have done our very, very best, papa, and that is not enough, then I think the right time must have come for asking help of others.’ This was the very secret connected with the magic fish-bone, which she had found out for herself from the good Fairy Grandmarina’s words, and which she had so often whispered to her beautiful and fashionable friend, the duchess. So she took out of her pocket the magic fish-bone, that had been dried and rubbed and polished till it shone like mother-of-pearl; and she gave it one little kiss, and wished it was quarter-day. And immediately it _was_ quarter-day; and the king’s quarter’s salary came rattling down the chimney, and bounced into the middle of the floor. But this was not half of what happened,—no, not a quarter; for immediately afterwards the good Fairy Grandmarina came riding in, in a carriage and four (peacocks), with Mr. Pickles’s boy up behind, dressed in silver and gold, with a cocked-hat, powdered-hair, pink silk stockings, a jewelled cane, and a nosegay. Down jumped Mr. Pickles’s boy, with his cocked-hat in his hand, and wonderfully polite (being entirely changed by enchantment), and handed Grandmarina out; and there she stood, in her rich shot-silk smelling of dried lavender, fanning herself with a sparkling fan. ‘Alicia, my dear,’ said this charming old fairy, ‘how do you do? I hope I see you pretty well? Give me a kiss.’