Other wise men came, but as many of their suggestions were cruel and unkind ones, naturally the king and queen would not hear of them, and at last they began to fear that nothing could be done. Now in a small village on the borders of the king’s great park, there lived a widow with her little daughter Marigold. They were very poor, and the mother earned what she could by doing odd jobs of washing, sewing, or cleaning for her neighbours. But she fell ill, and poor Marigold was in great trouble, for she had no money to buy comforts for her mother. Their little savings had to go for food to keep them alive, and every day these grew less and less. Marigold knew all about the little princess at the castle. She had often heard speak of her, and had even seen her sometimes riding about the roads on her white pony. And one day as she was cooking the midday meal an idea came into her head. As soon as dinner was over, she put on her hat and cloak and told her mother that she was going up to the king’s palace to see if she could make the princess cry and so earn the five hundred crowns. Her mother did her best to persuade her not to go. “How can you hope to succeed,” she said, “when so many clever people have tried and failed? You are my own dear little Marigold, but it is useless for you to attempt such a task. Give it up, my child.” But Marigold was determined, and when her mother saw this she said no more, but lay and watched her rather sadly as she set bravely off for the castle with her little basket over her arm. When Marigold came to the castle gates she felt frightened. The gates were so big and she was so small. But she thought of her mother and of the five hundred crowns which would buy her everything she needed, and she stood on tiptoe on the top step and pulled the bell handle so hard that she was quite frightened at the noise it made. A very grand footman opened the door, and when he saw Marigold standing there in her woollen frock and cloak with her little basket, he said, “Back entrance!” in a loud, cross voice, and shut the door in her face. So she went round to the back entrance. This time the door was opened by a red-faced kitchen-maid. “We’ve no dripping to give away to-day,” she said, and she too was about to shut the door. But the queen happened to be in the kitchen giving her orders for the day, and she saw Marigold through the window. She came to the window and called to her. “What is it, my child?” she asked, for Marigold stood there looking the picture of unhappiness. “I’ve come to make the princess cry, please your Majesty,” she said, and made a curtsey, for the queen looked very magnificent with her crown on her head and her lovely ermine train held up over her arm to keep it off the kitchen floor.