IN a country of wonderful beauty, where the green fields sloped down to the water's edge and the trees waved their long, green branches under a smiling sky of sunshine, there once ruled a King and a Queen. The country was rich and prosperous and the people were thrifty and happy, and all would have been well had it not been for the Queen's ambition.

Now the Queen was young and handsome, but she was also haughty and proud, and in her selfish way she tried to make every one around her believe that what she had was the very finest and best in the world. Her palace, her lands, her clothes, her jewels, she urged with arrogant pride were better than any one's else in the whole wide world. But the King was so busy, that he hardly noticed this weakness of his wife's; and besides, he really was so devoted to her that he would probably have been the last to see it anyway.

The pleasures of this royal couple were many, but one drop of bitterness always mingled in them — they had no children. The Queen was constantly wishing for a child and hoped when it came that it would be the most beautiful and the most brilliant in the kingdom.

One day, after many years of waiting, their hearts' desire was granted in the birth of a little daughter. She was as dainty a little Princess as could be found, and lay like a pink rose-bud amid her white pillows. That night while the Queen was watching her little one, there appeared beside the baby's cradle a tall fair-haired woman. She wore a crown of seven stars upon her head, and a magnificent cloak, heavily embroidered in many colors, fell from her shoulders to her feet. One arm was outstretched, and in it she carried a wand.

"I preside over the cradle of the new-born," said the handsome woman to the Queen, "and I have the power to grant any wish you may make for your child. Choose well, for one alone can I give."

Then the Queen, lifting herself on her elbow, gazed long upon the face of the sleeping child. She saw the babe was very lovely, and she said to herself, "I need not ask for beauty, — that she already possesses. I shall wish that she may be given wisdom so great that she alone may read the unspoken thoughts of others, and be called the wisest in the land."

"Foolish mother," sighed the stranger, "your wish shall be granted, but alas! I fear you will regret it."

Raising her cloak, she brought from beneath its ample folds a veil of the finest texture. It was white and transparent, and so delicate in fabric that, though many yards in length, when folded it could be placed in the centre of a small hazel-nut. She threw over the sleeping child this exquisite material, completely enveloping it in its delicate folds, and as she did so said to the Queen, —

"Guard this veil as you would your child's life. She must never lose or destroy it, for with its loss her life will melt away. Therefore if you wish to keep her healthy and well, preserve it carefully. I alone can take it away without injury to her, but that power will only be given me under certain conditions."

The Queen, becoming alarmed at these strange words, asked an explanation, but the golden-haired woman replied, —

"Your daughter's life alone will develop the answer. Guard well the veil. You have chosen her life and cannot alter it now."

The poor mother, terrified at these words, called loudly for her maids, but when they came the stranger had vanished, leaving only the white veil, soft and fine as a spider's web, spread over the sleeping Princess. The Queen at once took every precaution to preserve the veil. Placing it in a tiny golden box, and sealing and locking it, she hid it in the Palace treasury, putting the key of the golden box around her neck.

The King, alarmed at first at the story of the midnight visit from the star-crowned woman, shared his wife's anxiety, but as time went by they gradually forgot their fears.

The child grew in beauty and wisdom; her eyes were large and brown, and her hair curled in soft ringlets about her face. Her cheeks were like peaches and cream, and every one marvelled at the wonderful loveliness of the little Princess Helice. Her first lisping words were so bright that people stopped to listen, but they did not remain long, for almost immediately she began showing the fatal gift she possessed, she could read the thoughts of other people's minds. Sometimes it was most embarrassing, and her parents soon realized what a disagreeable power it was.

Once, when Helice was a little older, a Princess quite high in rank stopped to caress her, saying, "What a dear you are!"

"Then why do you think I cannot be human because I am so queer?" asked the rash little girl.
 

 

Another time, a courtier picked her up and held her high on his shoulder to view some passing pageant, and when he put her down bowed low, saying, "I am honored to have held the King's daughter."

"Why, then, do you think it is a pity I was ever born, and a misfortune for the kingdom that I am here?" inquired Helice.

Every day such things happened, and in spite of the fact that the Princess was growing more and more beautiful she was more and more shunned. Every one feared her words. The minute her bright eyes fell upon their faces she could read their innermost thoughts, and no one could ever keep a secret before the little Princess. It was a very uncomfortable state of affairs, to say the least, and the unhappy Queen acknowledged she had made a fearful mistake in wishing so much wisdom for her little daughter.

Helice at first did not mind it, but finally she discovered she was not like other children and this made her very unhappy, for she was a tender-hearted little girl, and she did not wish to hurt people's feelings. So she begged her mother to destroy the veil, and relieve her from the hateful spell, but this the Queen would not do, knowing well that if she did her daughter's life would dissolve like foam.

Time went by, and things were all in this unhappy state, when some visitor at the court related a story which greatly impressed the little Princess. It was called "A Just Punishment," and was as follows.

There once lived a great tyrant of a King who determined to increase his riches by means that were very dishonorable. His Queen, who was equally ambitious, was even more wicked than he, and together they planned to fool the already oppressed people, and demand more taxes. They had discovered a small stream of water in the depths of a large forest. It flowed out of a rocky cave in sparkling waves. Running down a little distance, it shone a clear, crystal light in the dark woods, then suddenly dwindling to a mere thread it disappeared in the earth. Now this stream possessed marvellous properties, and the King and Queen built themselves a magnificent temple near it, and when it was completed, they told the astonished inhabitants they had received an especial gift, and must henceforth be worshipped with divine honors. They then demanded gifts of gold and silver. In proof of their miraculous powers they filled a nut with sulphur, and put it in the King's mouth. By artfully conveying fire to it he breathed out flames whenever he wished. This amazed the people, who now firmly believed all their royal masters said. Then the King and Queen invited their subjects to bring all the black oxen in the country to them, saying they would perform a miracle. When the oxen were brought, they were bathed in the stream and came out pure white, owing to the wonderful properties in the water. By these means of fraud they succeeded in convincing the unfortunate people of all they said, and the poor subjects gave them whatever they asked. Gradually the miserly King and Queen became richer and richer, while the people were almost starving. When the King of the Fairies learned of the terrible fraud the wicked King and Queen had practised, and saw the fearful evil that had followed, he promptly came to the rescue of the unfortunate country. He changed the wicked King into a screech-owl, the bird who is never happy, but is always complaining, making night doleful with his moans and cries, while the Queen was condemned to haunt the rocks and ravines and all solitary places. She could never speak unless first spoken to, and then could only repeat what she heard. She pined away under this punishment, getting thinner and thinner, until finally, only her voice remained. To this day, if you call out suddenly in some lonely spot, her voice is. heard in reply in the distant echo.

This story impressed Helice very much, for it showed her the fate of tyrants and disagreeable people, and sire determined never to grow like them, but to control the unfortunate gift she possessed, and to be known by her good rather than her bad deeds. So she persuaded her parents to let her leave the Court, where she found no happiness, and live with a few chosen companions in some quiet where he could do good.

She was nearly grown by this time, and more beautiful than you can imagine. Her long brown hair fell in wavy masses below her waist, her small white teeth gleamed like pearls between her red lips, and her complexion was a delicious pink and white. Her brown eyes, large and soft, were often sad, remembering the unfortunate gift she possessed, yet at times forgetting, the golden lights would flash mischievously through them, and her merry laugh echo through the palace like soft music.

When she was almost sixteen, her father built her a beautiful palace near a charming village, and with some lovely girls of her own age for companions, she took up her abode there. They called themselves the White Ladies, for they dressed entirely in white. The White Ladies spent their time in doing good, — in teaching the little children, and improving the conditions of the simple villagers.

Their palace was on a sloping hill, and was built of white stone which glistened and sparkled like the newly fallen snow. Every detail about the building was very graceful. The slender columns, light as the snowy clouds that made the sky seem more blue, supported spacious balconies, and through the broad high windows one caught glimpses of the magnificent furnishings within, all white and silver. Viewed in the distance, the palace shone like a huge pearl lying on the green hillside. Even the guards stationed outside the grounds were dressed in white, and their spears were of polished steel and silver.

Every one soon learned to love the Princess and her White Ladies, and the fame of their good deeds spread far and wide. Each year the Princess herself became more dazzlingly beautiful, and in spite of the fact that she possessed the disagreeable gift of reading every one's thoughts, there were many young men who desired to ask her hand in marriage. Her parents wished her to consider the question seriously, but the Princess was happier in her White Palace, surrounded with her lovely companions, than she had ever been before, and she felt to enter the world again would only renew her troubles. Of course, she continued to read the thoughts of all about her, but they were good and loving friends, and she did not find it like meeting people in the world. So she begged her father to delay her marriage, and let her live with her White Ladies, and her villagers.

Her parents, however, loved her dearly, and were anxious to have her choose some one who would care for her at their death. At last, to gain time, she wrote out a riddle, and told her father she would marry any one who would guess it correctly. Many guesses were made and suitors came to the palace with their answers. The Princess saw them all, but she was not disturbed, for the instant she laid her eyes on them, she saw they had not guessed correctly. Gentle and kind she always was, but firm in her determination to keep her liberty.

One day, with a great blare of trumpets, the herald announced that a cavalcade without demanded audience. They evidently came from some powerful monarch, for enormous elephants and camels were laden with magnificent gifts for the Princess. They said they were sent by the King of Bengalia, to demand the Princess' hand in marriage, as he had successfully guessed her riddle.

The Princess smiled to herself when she heard the demand, but according to her promise she could refuse to see no one, so she bade them admit the King's ambassador. Her maidens dressed her in a gown of the whitest spun-silver, and coiling her brown hair high on her head, placed in it a lovely white rose. She was a vision of girlish beauty as she sat on her throne awaiting the message of the King.

When the messenger came into her presence he was announced as the Count Olenus, and she saw he was very handsome. He was a tall and slender youth, and seemed but a few years older than herself. His black hair waved a little on his head, and his deep grey eyes were large and beautiful. His clothes were made of the richest and finest texture, but he bore himself simply and modestly. But as he knelt at the Princess' feet and kissed her hand, the Princess turned deadly pale, for as she gave him her hand she realized that she could not read his mind. It was as a closed book to her.

The King of Bengalia's letter requested that the Princess would grant his dearest friend, and ambassador, the Count Olenus, her hospitality and friendship. He himself would follow in a month to claim her hand. As she read the letter the Princess regained her composure somewhat, and turning to the Count she said,

"Perhaps your King is over-confident of success."

"O beautiful Princess," began Olenus, in rich, low tones, "the King has surely won you fairly."

Then the Princess, who again felt her heart beat strangely, said,  "Make haste to answer our riddle," and ordering her herald to come forward, he read the following:

"A man had twelve sons, and each of his sons had thirty white sons, and thirty black daughters. These sons and daughters died every day, yet they were immortal."

"The answer," replied the young Count, steadily watching the Princess' lovely face, "is this. The year has twelve months or sons. Each of these months has thirty white sons or days, and thirty black daughters or nights. They consequently die, yet they live always. Am I correct I "

"Yes," murmured the Princess, pale as death, "that, is the true answer."

"Then upon my bended knees, I demand the fulfilment of your promise for my friend and King." Saying this, Count Olenus advanced, and kneeling held out his hand. White and trembling, but with the dignity of a Princess, Helice laid her hand in his, and said in a low, soft voice, —

"I faithfully promise to marry the King of Bengalia, when he comes to claim me."

Then she abruptly dismissed her Court. That night, however, she was obliged to give the customary banquet to her guests, and at her right hand sat the King's ambassador, smiling and happy, and Helice felt again that he was most charming and fascinating.

The King was to arrive in a month, and so preparations began at once for the wedding. But the Princess seemed very sad. The only thing that diverted her was when she planned hunting-parties and pleasures for her guests, for then the handsome Count Olenus accompanied her, and somehow the time always passed very pleasantly talking to him. But a great change had come over the young Princess, — she could no longer read the minds of any one about her.

This would have rejoiced her at any other time, but now she was too sad in the thought that every day brought her nearer her wedding, to care much about it, for she felt that she could not love the King of Bengalia.

Count Olenus frequently entertained them with stories, and the Princess would listen entranced, when he would tell her of how, far beyond the seas, beyond the great desert where the sand-storms rise and sweep across countless miles of waste, the fame of her great beauty had reached them, until they all longed to see her; and how, hearing of her marvellous loveliness, their King had determined to win her for his bride.

"Tell us of your country," said the Princess one night. "What is it like?"

"I will try to describe it," said the count softly, and he began.

"In the far East, as you know, lies the country of Bengalia. Its great cities and its beautiful villages are the pride of its people, and its fame for wealth is as wide-spread as its reputation for its magnificent mosques and temples. For since the first King of Bengalia ruled, wisely ,and well, it has ever been famous.

"Once in the long ago — it sounds like a pretty romance — a charming little Princess was given a bit of country by her father, and put at the head of a nation. She was a winsome maiden, though rather young for such a responsible position, but she was as wise as she was beautiful, and governed her people well. She soon made her domain a charming spot; fields were cultivated, flowers were planted and grew up in fragrance and beauty, and, prosperous and happy, the country throve.

"A beautiful river ran like a silver line through the country, winding and turning until it emptied itself into the great sea many miles distant, and this river was beloved and watched by the people with pride, for never a drop of rain fell out of their clear, ever sunny skies. Beautiful and blue they shone always, and if occasionally a cloud floated across, it was never black, but pure and white as the driven snow.

"They loved the broad, rolling river, then, for two reasons, first, because its shining waters were beautiful to look upon; and second, because it supplied their needs, for twice every year its broad banks overflowed with the precious fluid, and the thrifty people rejoiced in the days which followed. Their beloved river was everything to them, and down to its silver and blue borders crept the green fields and yellow grain they cultivated. The sunshine continually smiled upon them, and there was no happier people in the world. But suddenly a horrible giant magician swept down upon them. He was as big as six men, and he was loud-voiced and wicked and cruel. He built a tower on the side of the mountain, and he ate up all the sheep and cattle, and finally ended by demanding the hand of the dainty little Princess in marriage.

"The people refused his demand and made war upon him, but he was so powerful he could crush whole armies at once, and so they determined to try some other means than fighting to rid themselves of him. They sent an army of bees to sting him to death in the night, but his skin was so thick that when the bees stung him he just turned over and said, Dear me, how annoying the mosquitoes are to-night,' and went right to sleep again. Then they sent a lion to eat him up, but when the lion saw how big he was, he became so frightened he could not even roar.

"Finally the Princess, who was as brave as she was beautiful, determined to face him herself, and at the head of a large army she advanced to meet him. But he just snatched her up when he saw her and put her in the high tower. Then he destroyed her lands, ruined her fields, and turned the country into a trackless desert, with nothing but scorching sands everywhere, and the unfortunate people were turned into hills of stone and left to whiten beneath the blazing sun.

"After he had put the country under this awful spell he sat himself down, determined to wait until the poor little Princess would consent to marry him. All day he left her locked in the tower while he looked for food, and at night after his long tramp he would return and climb to the top of the tower and demand of her in a loud voice if she was ready to marry him. But the Princess, miserable as she was, always answered, 'No, you are a cruel monster and have destroyed my faithful people and my country, and I shall never marry you, for I hate you.'

"The old giant would chuckle to himself, and leaving a jug of water and a loaf of bread outside her door would say, 'Very well, my pretty one, this is all you shall have to eat until you consent,' and would hobble down the steps again.

"So the poor little maiden sat there alone, and spent her days singing to keep up her courage, though you may be sure her songs, like her heart, were very sad. One day a handsome young Prince, who was hunting and had lost his way, stopped before the tower and heard her lovely voice. Amazed, he asked who she was, and in sad tones she told him her story.

"The young Prince determined to rescue her, and going to the forest he met a friendly giraffe who kindly . consented to assist him. The giraffe accompanied him to the tower, and then stretched out his long neck for the Prince to climb up on, and in this way the young man soon reached the tiny window through which came the Princess' voice. Looking in, the Prince saw the most beautiful Princess he had ever beheld, but he also saw that the window was barred with iron and that he could not open it.

"He did not despair, however, but telling the lovely maiden to keep up her courage, he went back to the forest. There he found a little animal with soft fur and very strong feet, called the mole, which always digs into the earth, and asking the little fellow to return with him, with its assistance he dug 'a big hole under the steps. This hole he lightly covered with dirt, and then sat down to wait for the old giant. Of course he hid himself well so as not to be seen. The giant came as usual that night, and walked up the steps to the tower and asked the Princess if she would marry him. Then the Prince cleared the dirt from the hole, and in a moment the steps gave way and the old giant tumbled down and was killed.

"With the death of the cruel giant the spell was broken. The Princess came down from her cell on the friendly giraffe's neck, and her people were restored to their natural forms. In gratitude for her deliverance the Princess married the handsome Prince, and once more the lovely country became prosperous and charming, the magnificent mosques and temples were rebuilt, and the country again became the pride of its people.

"But a portion of the magician's spell was never broken, and they did not seek to change it, for it proved their greatest protection from their enemies. On one side of the great city a trackless desert was left, so that no one could ever enter save over the sea, for the country is so large it stretches down to the broad waters of the ocean. Thus the land is always protected from its enemies, and no wicked spells can be woven there. The Princess and her brave husband called their domain Bengalia, and their descendants skill live there and cherish it, for there is no more beautiful spot in the world. All along the river rise famous temples with their minarets and richly carved towers, and under the brilliancy of their cloudless skies these temples and mosques glisten and flash like millions of jewels. There also you will see the narrow strip of green fields richly cultivated, crawling like a lizard on its banks, and back of the green strip lies the desert with its yellow sands, while amid these sands rise the tawny hills, barren and stern, standing like sentinels guarding the great treasures of the country, — and to this lovely land, fair Princess, my King invites you!"

The story was finished and the Princess arose, almost in tears. She knew not why, but she was very sad. The next day the King would arrive and she must marry him. Was she unhappy because she was to go to the fair land of Bengalia Olenus had so beautifully described

The morning broke clear and brilliant. The King had arrived in the night, and his army of white tents lay beyond the city. The bride, colorless as a lily in her snowy clouds of lace and satin, stood silent amid her laughing maidens. She felt like a victim prepared for sacrifice, and her mournful eyes lingered on all her beloved and beautiful possessions in the White Palace. But she had given her pledge and she must fulfil her promise and marry the King.

At last the hour had come when she must go to meet him. Stately and dignified, she approached the throne-room where he awaited her. So sad was she that she could hardly raise her eyes to greet him when he advanced and took her hand. When she did gain her courage, however, to look up, she saw the King of Bengalia, smiling with love before her, was none other than the handsome Count Olenus!

The pale little Princess quickly became a blushing rose when the King whispered, "Forgive me my deception, beautiful Helice, but I determined to gain your heart as well as your hand, and this seemed the only way."

They were married immediately, and after the ceremony the King of Bengalia drew his charming bride away from the throng of merry-makers out into the quiet garden, sweet with roses and honeysuckle, and it seemed to them they were the happiest people in the world. The evening was strangely beautiful. The glitter of the day was passing and soft shadows were creeping up over the hills, but the sky was all a delicate rose pink. The King was telling his bride of the beautiful home he had prepared for her beyond the sea, and the life of happiness they would lead there together, when suddenly in their path appeared a tall, fair woman. Upon her head she wore a crown of seven stars. She was resplendent with beauty, and light seemed to radiate from her as she approached them. She addressed the bride, saying, —

"I have come for the magical veil I gave you. Your bridal veil of love has destroyed the spell of a selfish wish made at your birth. Henceforth you shall live in happiness."

So saying she pointed upward, and looking overhead they saw that the night had fallen, and the clear blue sky had already put on its jewelled robe, embroidered with its millions of flashing stars. Across the heavens stretched a filmy, mysterious thing. Its gossamer web resembled the fine weaving of a veil, and it shimmered and trembled in quivering waves of white.

"It is not well to read the future," she continued, "or hold aloof too selfishly from others upon the earth, and this is why too much wisdom often brings unhappiness with it. There lies your veil of knowledge, and so it shall remain, stretched out across the skies a warning to all who look.

And there to this day it still is — a Milky Way of splendor, — and on clear nights you can find it, white and mysterious, rolled out for miles across the heavens. In its transparent meshes dance millions of twinkling stars, smiling and blinking at the wise men of the world, who do not know how it got there.