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Updated: June 7, 2025
"I have been looking for you this half hour." Then, passing her arm within that of the individual she had addressed, she drew her aside before she had a chance to answer Mrs. Marygold's question.
When King Midas had grown quite an old man, and used to trot Marygold's children on his knee, he was fond of telling them this marvelous story, pretty much as I have now told it to you. And then would he stroke their glossy ringlets, and tell them that their hair, likewise, had a rich shade of gold, which they had inherited from their mother.
How fatal was the gift which the stranger bestowed! The moment the lips of Midas touched Marygold's forehead, a change had taken place. Her sweet, rosy face, so full of affection as it had been, assumed a glittering yellow color, with yellow teardrops congealing on her cheeks. Her beautiful brown ringlets took the same tint.
The stranger's countenance still wore a smile, which seemed to shed a yellow lustre all about the room, and gleamed on little Marygold's image, and on the other objects that had been transmuted by the touch of Midas. "Well, friend Midas," said the stranger, "pray how do you succeed with the Golden Touch?" Midas shook his head. "I am very miserable," said he.
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