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And Honcy-Bee, overcome by his magnanimity and his goodness, felt for him the love of a daughter for a father. She took her lover's hand. "George," she said, "I love you. God knows how much I love you. But how can I leave little King Loc?" "Hallo, there?" King Loc cried in a terrible voice, "now you are my prisoners!"

For more than three hundred years all the duchesses of Clarides have spun the cloth for the poor, have visited the sick, and have held the new-born at the baptismal font. That is the reason they greet you, my children." George was lost in deep thought: "We must protect those who toil on the land," and Honcy-Bee said: "One should spin for the poor."

And he himself placed the crown on the head of Honcy-Bee. In which King Loc declares himself The dwarfs celebrated the crowning of their first princess by joyous revels. Harmless and innocent games succeeded each other in the huge amphitheatre; and the little men, with cockades of fern or two oak leaves fastened coquettishly to their hoods, bounded gaily across the subterranean streets.

Only King Loc was sad. On the thirtieth day, having given the princess and the dwarf people a festival of unparalleled magnificence, he mounted his throne, and so stood that his kind face just reached her car. "My Princess Honcy-Bee," he said, "I am about to make a request which you are at liberty either to accept or to refuse. Honey-Bee of Clarides, Princess of the Dwarfs, will you be my wife?"