“The same as a King,” she whispered, and drew from her bosom the opal, as lovely and as variable as the human spirit. “With the other three stones you may, if you will, buy back your father’s kingdom. But this, which contains all qualities in one, let us keep for ever, for our children and theirs, that they may know there is nothing a King and a Queen may not do in a Barn, or a man and a woman anywhere. But the best thing they can do is to work in it.” Then, going out, she came back with the bag which she had slung on Pepper’s back, and took from it her father’s tools. “In three weeks you learned all I learned in three years,” said she. “When I shod Pepper this morning I did my last job as a smith; for now I shall have other work to do. But you, whether you choose to get your father’s lands again or no, I pray to work in the trade I have given you, for I have made you the very king of smiths, and all men should do the thing they can do best. So take the hammer and nail up the horseshoes over the door while I get supper; for you look as hungry as I feel.” “But there’s nothing to eat,” said the King ruefully. However, he went outside, and over the door he hung as many shoes as there are nails in one--the four Pepper had cast on the road, and the three he had first made her. As he drove the last nail home Viola called: “Supper is ready.” And the King went into the Barn and saw a Wedding Cake. By permission, from _Martin Pippin in the Apple Orchard_ by Eleanor Farjeon. Copyright 1922 by Frederick A. Stokes Company. THE HAPPY PRINCE OSCAR WILDE High above the city, on a tall column, stood the statue of the Happy Prince. He was gilded all over with thin leaves of fine gold, for eyes he had two bright sapphires, and a large red ruby glowed on his sword-hilt. He was very much admired indeed. “He is as beautiful as a weathercock,” remarked one of the Town Councillors who wished to gain a reputation for having artistic tastes; “only not quite so useful,” he added, fearing lest people should think him unpractical, which he really was not. “Why can’t you be like the Happy Prince?” asked a sensible mother of her little boy who was crying for the moon. “The Happy Prince never dreams of crying for anything.” “I am glad there is some one in the world who is quite happy,” muttered a disappointed man as he gazed at the wonderful statue. “He looks just like an angel,” said the Charity Children as they came out of the cathedral in their bright scarlet cloaks and their clean white pinafores. “How do you know?” said the Mathematical Master, “you have never seen one.” “Ah! but we have, in our dreams,” answered the children; and the Mathematical Master frowned and looked very severe, for he did not approve of children dreaming.