And some come when the night is here and you have gone to sleep They find your home and then upon your pillow they will creep, And tell you dreams that you must dream; and then, you understand, Next morning you may truly say you've been to Fairy-land. "But now, in regard to this syrup, I wonder very much how it tastes," interrupted the King, returning to the matter that had been upon his mind, "tell me, how does it taste?" "Very sweet, your Majesty," said Zuzu, "and it is very nice with Waffles. I have eaten it often." "But whence do you obtain this syrup?" asked the King. "The best kind comes out of a tree," said Zuzu, who had often been with his uncle when he was making maple sugar. "From a tree? Oh, I suppose you get it just as I do my palm wine when I wish, or my cocoanut milk. You cut a hole in the tree, and catch the juice in a cup?" "It is something like that, your Majesty," replied Zuzu. "Then, my dear," said the King, "take this little gold ax and run and catch me a cupful of syrup for my new Waffle." Zuzu did as he was bid and soon came back with a cupful of very fair syrup. This the Widow at once spread upon the hot Waffle and offered it to the King. "This syrup," said the King, touching his finger to the contents of the cup, "is most delicious. It is something we have had all along, but did not know it." "Your Majesty," said the Widow Pickle anxiously, "I beg you will eat your Waffle while it is hot." "Oh, very well," said the King wearily, "but surely you must know that I usually am very much more bored about eating things than any one can possibly be who has never been a King." So saying, he took his royal golden knife and fork and cut off a morsel from the Waffle, which he placed in his royal mouth. As he did so, to their great surprise, he sat up straight, and a pleasant smile appeared upon his face. His cheek stuck out where the mouthful of Waffle lay; but the King did not act as though he intended to swallow it, although his smile showed that he was pleased. "Is it good, your Majesty?" asked the Widow Pickle again anxiously. The King nodded but did not speak. He motioned for a piece of paper, on which he wrote the word "Excellent." "Then, why do you not eat it?" asked the Widow. "I fear very much there may not be anything more so good," wrote the King. At this, the Widow Pickle herself smiled happily. "Oh, yes, there is, your Majesty," she cried. "I warn you that every bite of this Waffle is as good as the first one. Moreover, I assure you I can bake others quite as good, as many as you like." Hearing this, the King at once ate the portion of Waffle, and, to the great joy of all, regained his voice; for of course no King ever speaks with his mouth even partly full.