"Oh, please, Godmother," cried the Prince, "I have had enough of everything but kindness; and oh, Godmother, if you only would tell me how to turn my people back again, indeed, there is nothing I wouldn't do. Believe me, dear Godmother, I'm a very different sort of boy from the one who wouldn't learn the boundaries, and wanted to know the Blue Wizard; I am, indeed." "Humph!" sniffed the fairy, though secretly she was not ill pleased with him, "you're a much dirtier one, at all events. Have you washed your face since you've been gone?" "I'm afraid I haven't washed it very often," confessed the humbled Prince. "You see, I've had so much else on my mind, Godmother." "Bah!" exclaimed the fairy. "Go take a bath!" "But the Court, Godmother," pleaded the Prince, timidly; "they must be very tired of being small." "Tut, tut," cried the godmother, sharply, "how you do harp on one string, to be sure! 'Tis very ill bred of you. However, as it's not for yourself, I don't mind telling you that it's a very simple matter when you once know how to do it. They were facing each other when they shrank, were they not?" "Yes," said the Prince, blushing. "Turn them all back to back, then," said the fairy, snappishly. "I should think any fool might have known enough to do that long ago." Vance opened his box, and trembling with excitement arranged his relatives and friends in two rows, back to back. Pouf! The effect was magical! Quicker by far than they had grown small, the little folk regained their former size. Then, indeed, confusion reigned. Such gabbling and chattering and running about; such hand-shakings, embracing, and congratulations; such beratings and cuffings of Vance because he had made them small, and then such kissings and caressings because he had made them large again! Never was there known such a mighty confusion and uproar in any royal palace before or since. "But, Godmother," ventured Vance, timidly, when the excitement had died away enough to allow a body to begin once more to think,--"But, Godmother, if you please, may I ask you one question?" "If it's a short one," replied the sharp old lady, "and not _too_ foolish." "Well, then," asked Vance, "I would like very much to know, if you please, what we should have done if the peahen had happened not to lay an egg?" "Pshaw!" said the godmother, crisply. "Stuff!" [Illustration] University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. End of Project Gutenberg's Prince Vance, by Eleanor Putnam and Arlo Bates