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Of the two I was doubtless the more ill at ease, though I concealed it bravely. "Phyllis," I said at last, "did you ever get over a childish fondness for fairy-stories?" She smiled at this was I wrong in fancying that her smile was that of sadness? and answered: "I hope not."
"Do you care for fairy-stories?" "Sometimes." "Well, once upon a time there lived a king. He was young. He had an uncle who watched over him and his affairs. They call such uncles prince regents. This prince regent had an idea regarding the future welfare of this nephew. He would bring him up to be a man, well educated, broad-minded, and clean-lived.
'Farewell, farewell! said the little swallow with a heavy heart, and flew away to farther lands, far, far away, right back to Denmark. There he had a little nest above a window, where his wife lived, who can tell fairy-stories. 'Tweet, tweet! he sang to her. And that is the way we learnt the whole story.
When you read in your fairy-stories about a little boy or girl, you often hear that they had fairy godmothers who came to their cradles, and gave them gifts, and foretold what was going to happen to the little babies in after years.
She lifted him to make him drink, and supported him while she held the glass to his lips, then laid him easily back. The delusions of fever had the sweet and foolish impossibility of fairy-stories: Aurora, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, placing upon his stiff and lacerated breast balsamic bandages of assuaging and beneficient warmth!...
I myself listened to his dreams in silence, and they amused me as the merry fairy-stories of my childhood did fairy-stories invented only for the purpose of making us laugh." "Yes, let us laugh at them," exclaimed the emperor, bursting into loud laughter, which, however, sounded so unnatural that Count Bubna did not join in it.
Grimly forcing her weakness back into her secret heart, she turned a calm front to him once again. "Enough of fairy-stories, Major Carter," she said. "We live in a workaday world where the 'little people' have no place. All of us have our duties to perform. If some be less pleasant than others it is no excuse for not fulfilling them to the uttermost. We have a hard day before us.
But it is when we come to that King Khufu, who figures in the fairy-stories of Zazamankh and Dedi, that we begin to understand what a wonderful thing an Egyptian tomb might be. Not very far from Cairo, the modern capital of Egypt, a line of strange, pointed buildings rises against the sky on the edge of the desert.
He came strolling down the gravel-walk, humming a sad song, till he reached a stone seat right under the tree where the parrot and the monkey were hiding. Then he lay down on the seat and began reading the fairy-stories to himself. Chee-Chee and Polynesia watched him, keeping very quiet and still. After a while the King's son laid the book down and sighed a weary sigh.
I claim you from this hour," said she firmly, as one not to be gainsaid. "I'm beginning to believe in fairy-stories," said Flint. "The beggar comes home and he isn't a beggar at all, he's a Prince. Because the Queen is his mother." My mother looked at him approvingly. The grace of his manner, and the unaffected feeling of his words, pleased her.
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