At the magic words every soldier’s arm fell by his side, their eyes changed to little black dots, their faces grew rounder, their legs stiffened, and there they stood, nothing more nor less than wooden soldiers just like the one —_were_ they his own soldiers? And the Princess! Was she only the doll that Harriett had forgotten the night before and that Teddy had set up against his knees to watch the show? Were the streets only black and white silk? There he was, back in his own room with the little wooden soldiers and the paper circus. There was the square of silk with the book under it, and the Counterpane Fairy sitting on his knees. “Oh! but, Counterpane Fairy,” cried Teddy, “what became of us? Did we get away? Oh, I didn’t want to come out of the story just yet!” “Why, of course you escaped,” said the fairy. “How could the King stop you after you had changed his soldiers into wood?” “And what became of you?” asked Teddy. “Oh, I took the clown’s cap,” said the fairy, “for it was the wishing-cap, and fast as you and the Princess rode back to the country of King Whitebeard I was there before you.” Teddy thought for a while and then he heaved a deep sigh. “I wish I really had a circus horse,” he said, “and could ride round and have all the people watching and shouting. But what did the Princess say when she found I had rescued her?” “Hark!” said the fairy, “isn’t that your mother coming along the hall? I must be going. Oh, my poor bones! What a hill it is to go down! Oh dear, dear, dear!” [Illustration] CHAPTER FIFTH. AT THE EDGE OF THE POLAR SEA The crocuses are up on the lawn,” said Teddy’s mother, who was standing at the window and looking out. “And just hear that blackbird! I always feel as though spring were really here when I hear the blackbirds sing.” Teddy was still in bed. It seemed to him sometimes that he had spent his whole life lying there in the India-room, under the silk counterpane, and that it was some other Teddy who used to go to school and shout and play with the boys in the street. “I wish I could go out-of-doors the way I used to,” he said. “So do I,” said mamma. “But never mind, darling. The doctor says it won’t be so very long now before you can be out again, and this afternoon we’ll play some nice game or other that you can play in bed. Now what would you like it to be?” But before Teddy could answer she added, “Oh dear! There comes Aunt Mariah.” Aunt Mariah lived down at the other end of the village, and she generally came every fortnight to spend an afternoon with Teddy’s mother. She always brought her knitting in a bag, and a white net cap that she put on before the glass as soon as she had taken her bonnet off. Teddy liked to have her come, her needles flew so fast, and she used to recite to him, — “A was an archer, and shot at a frog; B was a butcher, and had a great dog.” Then when he was tired of sitting with her and mamma, he could run out-of-doors and play.