“No, I didn’t,” said Caspar. “Yes, you did,” said the king, “for these three lads told me so.” “Prut!” said Caspar, “who would believe what they say? Why, they would just as lief tell you that this horse and saddle and bridle belong to them.” “And so they do!” bawled the three rogues. “See there, now,” said Caspar. The king scratched his head, for here was a tangled knot, for certain. “Yes, yes,” said he, “these fellows are fooling either Caspar or me, and we are both in the same tub, for the matter of that. Take them away and whip them!” So it was done as he said, and that was all that they got for their trouble. Wit and Luck are not always hatched in the same nest, says Tommy Pfouce, and maybe he is right about it, for Caspar married his sweetheart, and if she did not keep his money for him, and himself out of trouble, she would not have been worth speaking of, and I, for one, would never have told this story. [Illustration] [Illustration] Six O’clock Little _John_ and _Eliza_ [Sidenote: K.P. des.] Went down to the _Mill_, But now it has stopped, And the _Hopper_ is still; So _John_ and _Eliza_ [Sidenote: _Cool for the season._] Come _Home_ to their _Tea_, And both are as hungry, As hungry can be. [Illustration: The Swan Maiden. H.P.] XVIII. Once there was a king who had a pear-tree which bore four-and-twenty golden pears. Every day he went into the garden and counted them to see that none were missing. But, one morning, he found that a pear had been taken during the night, and thereat he was troubled and vexed to the heart, for the pear-tree was as dear to him as the apple of his eye. Now, the king had three sons, and so he called the eldest prince to him. “See,” said he, “if you will watch my pear-tree to-night, and will find me the thief who stole the pear, you shall have half of my kingdom now, and the whole of it when I am gone.” You can guess how the prince was tickled at this: oh, yes, he would watch the tree, and if the thief should come he should not get away again as easily. Well, that night he sat down beside the tree, with his gun across his knees, to wait for the coming of the thief. He waited and waited, and still he saw not so much as a thread or a hair. But about the middle of the night there came the very prettiest music that his ears had ever heard, and before he knew what he was about he was asleep and snoring until the little leaves shook upon the tree. When the morning came and he awoke, another pear was gone, and he could tell no more about it than the man in the moon. The next night the second son set out to watch the pear-tree. But he fared no better than the first. About midnight came the music, and in a little while he was snoring till the stones rattled. When the morning came another pear was gone, and he had no more to tell about it than his brother.