“At last!” she kept saying to herself. “At last I shall see my own beautiful reflection in a mirror, instead of that horrid old hag!” When she was safe in the grove she succeeded, by means of her witchcraft, in transforming the girl Adlena back into the beautiful woman known throughout the kingdom of Ix as Queen Zixi. And then she lost no time in throwing the magic cloak over her shoulders. “I wish,” she cried in a loud voice, “that my reflection in every mirror will hereafter show the same face and form as that in which I appear to exist in the sight of all mortals!” Then she threw off the cloak and ran to the crystal spring, saying: “Now, indeed, I shall at last see the lovely Queen Zixi!” But as she bent over the spring, she gave a sudden shriek of disappointed rage; for glaring up at her from the glassy surface of the water was the same fearful hag she had always seen as the reflection of her likeness! The magic cloak would grant no wish to a person who had stolen it. Zixi, more wretched than she had ever been before in her life, threw herself down upon her face in the lilac-grove and wept for more than an hour, which is an exceedingly long time for tears to run from one’s eyes. And when she finally arose, two tiny brooks flowed from the spot and wound through the lilac-trees—one to the right and one to the left. Then, leaving the magic cloak—to possess which she had struggled so hard and sinfully—lying unheeded upon the ground, the disappointed witch-queen walked slowly away, and finally reached the bank of the great river. [Illustration: “SHE THREW OFF THE CLOAK AND RAN TO THE CRYSTAL SPRING.”] Here she found a rugged old alligator who lay upon the bank, weeping with such bitterness that the sight reminded Zixi of her own recent outburst of sorrow. “Why do you weep, friend?” she asked, for her experience as a witch had long since taught her the language of the beasts and birds and reptiles. “Because I cannot climb a tree,” answered the alligator. “But why do you wish to climb a tree?” she questioned, surprised. “Because I can’t,” returned the alligator, squeezing two more tears from his eyes. “But that is very foolish!” exclaimed the witch-queen, scornfully. “Oh, I don’t know,” said the alligator. “It doesn’t strike me that it’s much more foolish than the fancies some other people have.” “Perhaps not,” replied Zixi, more gently, and walked away in deep thought. While she followed the river-bank, to find a ferry across, the dusk fell, and presently a gray owl came out of a hollow in a tall tree and sat upon a limb, wailing dismally. Zixi stopped and looked at the bird. “Why do you wail so loudly?” she asked. [Illustration: “‘BECAUSE I CANNOT CLIMB A TREE,’ ANSWERED THE ALLIGATOR.”] “Because I cannot swim in the river like a fish,” answered the owl, and it screeched so sadly that it made the queen shiver. “Why do you wish to swim?” she inquired.