Then the woman cracked the walnut, and found a beautiful golden wool-winder, which she sent to the queen. “I never had such things,” said the queen, “this woman is richer than I am. Let her stop as long as she likes.” Then the poor woman was glad indeed, and stayed there quietly until she gave birth to a little daughter. The servant took the baby into the kitchen to put on the swaddling-bands; while she was doing so a beautiful white dove alighted on the window-sill, and said:— “If the cocks no longer sang, If the bells no longer rang, If you knew this, oh mother mine, Lovely you’d be, oh daughter mine.” Then the servant went to the queen and told her what had happened. “To-morrow I’ll come myself,” said she, “and see the dove, and hear what it says.” As soon as she had heard it, she had all the cocks in the town killed, and all the bells tied up: and the next morning she carried the babe into the kitchen herself. No sooner had she sat down than the dove alighted on her shoulder. She unswaddled the baby, and the little thing stretched out its tiny arms in joy at feeling itself free. As it did so, it touched the dove, who was instantly changed into a handsome young man. The queen knew him for her son, the poor woman for her husband, and there was great feasting and joy in all the palace. If they’re not alive, they must be dead: if they’re not dead, they’re still living. TERESINA, LUISA, AND THE BEAR CLEMENTINA had been doing her shopping in the village and now the two children and I were walking home with her. It was near the time of sunset, and the Apennines, blue-purple as the sun gradually dropped behind them, unrolled themselves before us, chain behind chain, as we advanced along the road with the valley on the left and the chestnut-covered hill on the right. “A story, _nonna mia_,” begged I, and “A story,” echoed the children: “tell us the story about Teresina.” So Clementina began:— * * * * * Once there was a woman who had two daughters: at least, one was a daughter, and the other a step-daughter. Now the daughter, named Luisa, was ugly and wicked: but the step-daughter, Teresina, was so good and beautiful that everybody loved her. This made Luisa very jealous, and she began to think what she might do to get rid of Teresina. One evening she said to her mother:— “Mother, send Teresina into the woodhouse to-night, so that the bear may come and eat her while she’s alone in the forest.” So the mother gave Teresina a piece of dry bread and said to her:— “Take your distaff and go and spin wool in the woodhouse to-night.” “Very well,” said Teresina, and went out into the forest; and the dog and the cat went with her. When she got into the woodhouse she shut the door, pulled out her piece of bread, and began to eat her supper. “Miaou, miaou,” said pussy, and patted her arm. “Ah, poor little pussy, are you hungry too? Here’s a piece of bread for you.”