"This is a jacinth, my dear princess. Whenever you are cold, you have
only to rub your hands against it, and you will feel a delicious sense
of warmth stealing through your limbs."

The princess rubbed her hands against the smooth stone as the king
suggested; but she almost immediately threw it away again, crying out
with pain.

"Oh, I don't like it at all," she exclaimed. "It pricks and hurts."

"It is nothing but the electricity," answered the king. "You will soon
get accustomed to it, and I have no doubt will be quite fond of your
electrical stove."

"I don't want to get accustomed to it," answered the princess. "I want
to go home."

Then the king's face grew dark, and his pale blue eyes winked and
blinked until they shone like two blazing lights.

"No one comes into our country to go away again," he said at length.
"You are the Princess Bebe, adopted daughter of the king of the
mineral-workers and the workers in stone, and with him you must stay for
the rest of your life."

In spite of her diamond necklace, the princess was actually crying,
although it is almost past belief that any one with a diamond necklace
could cry; but the merry little mineral-workers, seeing the tears in her
eyes, crowded around her, and tried their best to comfort her.

"Come into the garden," said one; and "Come to the gold chests," said
another, "and see the diamonds."

"Diamonds!" exclaimed the princess, angrily and ungratefully: "I hate
the very sight of them. But I would like to see the garden," she added,
more gently.

Aleck, the gate-keeper, offered to act as escort, and the princess dried
her eyes. He at least was her friend, she thought; and on the way to the
garden, being very hungry, she ventured to ask him when they were to
have breakfast.

"Breakfast!" he said. "Why, we don't have breakfasts here."

"Well, then, dinner," suggested the princess, meekly.

"Nor dinners either," replied the little man. "Why should we have
dinners?"

"But at least you have suppers," said the princess, desperately, and
feeling ready to cry again.

"What are you thinking of?" asked the gate-keeper, with an air of
surprise.

Then the princess grew angry.

"What am I thinking of?" she cried, at the top of her voice. "I am
thinking of something to eat--that's what I'm thinking of, and I'm
almost starved."

The little gate-keeper looked up, with a curious smile on his face, and
answered:

"Well, then, my dear princess, if tha