And so the brave soldier had to go out under the blessed sky again. “Well! well!” said he, “the cream is all sour over yonder for sure and certain! All the same it will better nothing to be in the dumps, so we’ll just sing a bit of a song to keep our spirits up.” So the soldier began to sing, and by and by he heard that somebody was singing along with him. “Halloa, comrade!” said he, “who is there?” “Oh!” said a voice beside him, “it is only Trouble.” “And what are you doing there, Trouble?” said the soldier. Oh! Trouble was only jogging along with him. They had been friends and comrades for this many a bright day, for when had the soldier ever gone anywhere that Trouble had not gone along with him? The brave soldier scratched his head. “Yes, yes,” says he; “that is all very fine; but there must be an end of the business. See! yonder is one road and here is another; you may go that road and I will go this, for I want no Trouble for a comrade.” “Oh, no!” says Trouble, “I will never leave you now; you and I have been comrades too long for that!” Very well! the soldier would see about that. They should go to the king, for things had come to a pretty pass if one could not choose one’s own comrades in this broad world, but must, willy-nilly, have Trouble always jogging at one’s heels. So off they went—the soldier and Trouble—and by and by they came to the great town and there they found the king. “Well, and what is the trouble now?” said the king. Trouble indeed! Why, it was thus and so, here was that same Trouble tramping around at the soldier’s heels and would go wherever he went. Now, the soldier would like to know whether one had no right to choose one’s own comrades—that was the business that had brought him to the king! [Illustration: The Brave Soldier bringeth his Trouble to y^e town along with him.] Well, the king thought and thought and puzzled and puzzled, but that nut was too hard for him to crack, so he sent off for all of his wise councillors to see what they had to say about the matter. So, when they had all come together the king told them that things were thus and so, and thus and so, and now he would like to know what they all thought about it. Then the wise councillors began to talk and talk, and one said one thing and another another. After a while they fell to arguing with loud voices, and then they grew angry and began talking all at once, and last of all they came to fisticuffs. Then you should have heard what a racket they made! for they buffeted and cuffed one another until the hair flew as thick as dust in the mill. That was the kind of prank that Trouble played them.