“Oh, yes,” said he, “I know who it was that brought the cake. Last night the white dove in the kitchen flew down from over the window and became the queen herself; she made the sweet cake and laid it upon the white napkin, for I saw her do it with my own eyes.” Up they brought the white dove from the kitchen, and the king took it in his own hands and held it up to his bosom, and stroked it and caressed it. “If thou art my queen,” said he, “why dost thou not speak to me?” But the dove answered never a word, and the king stroked it and stroked it. By and by he felt something, and when he came to look it was the head of the silver pin. He drew it forth, and there stood the young queen again in her own true shape. She told everything that had happened to her from the first to the last, and how her Step-mother had treated her. Then, hui! but the king was angry! He sent a great lot of soldiers off to the father’s house to bring the Step-mother to the castle so that she might be punished for her wickedness. But she was not to be caught as easily as a sparrow in a rain-storm; she jumped upon a broom straw, and—puff!—away she flew up the chimney, and that was the last that anybody saw of her so far as ever I heard. But they brought the father over to the king’s castle, where he sat in the warmest corner and had the best that was to be had. That is all of this story, and if you see a blind mouse run across the floor throw your cap over it and catch it, for it is yours. [Illustration] [Illustration] One O’clock· The _Kobold_ lies, [Sidenote: _Hazy. Very pleasant._] And blinks his _Eyes_, Under the _Grape-vine_ leaves. The _Chickens_ scratch In a sunny _Patch_, And the _Sparrows_ fight on the _Eaves_. The _Bee-Hive_ hums; The _House-wife_ comes, And looks outside the _Door_. The speckled _Chick_ Hops in, to pick [Sidenote: K.P. des.] The _Crumbs_ from off the _Floor_. [Illustration: Master Jacob.] XIII. Once upon a time there was a man whose name was just Master Jacob and nothing more. All that Master Jacob had in the world was a good fat pig, two black goats, a wife, and a merry temper—which was more than many a better man than he had, for the matter of that. “See, now,” says Master Jacob, “I will drive the fat pig to the market to-morrow; who knows but that I might strike a bit of a sale.” “Do,” says Master Jacob’s wife, for she was of the good sort, and always nodded when he said “yes,” as the saying goes. Now there were three rogues in the town over the hill, who lived in plenty; one was the priest, one was the provost, and one was the master mayor; and which was the greatest rogue of the three it would be a hard matter to tell, but perhaps it was the priest.