t the King still hoped to save his daughter from such a terrible
misfortune. So he ordered all the spinning-wheels in his kingdom to be
burnt or destroyed, and made a law that no one was to use one on pain of
instant death. But all his care was useless. On her fifteenth birthday
the Princess slipped away from her attendants, and wandered all through
the Palace. At last she came to a tower which she had never seen before,
and, wondering what it contained, she climbed the stairs. From a room at
the top came a curious humming noise, and the Princess, wondering what
it could be, pushed open the door and stepped inside.

There sat an old woman, bent with age, working at a strangely shaped
wheel. The Princess was full of curiosity.

[Illustration]

"What is that funny-looking thing?" she asked.

"It is a spinning-wheel, Princess," answered the old woman, who was no
other than the wicked fairy in disguise.

"A spinning-wheel--what is that? I have never heard of such a thing,"
said the Princess. She stood watching for a few minutes, then she added:

"It looks quite easy. May I try to do it?"

"Certainly, gracious lady," said the wicked fairy, and the Princess sat
down and tried to turn the wheel. But no sooner did she lay her hand
upon it than the spindle, which was enchanted, pricked her finger, and
the Princess fell back against a silk-covered couch--fast asleep.

In a moment a deep silence fell upon all who were in the castle. The
King fell asleep in the midst of his councillors, the Queen with her
ladies-in-waiting. The horses in the stable, the pigeons on the roof,
the flies upon the walls, even the very fire upon the hearth fell
asleep, too. The meat which was cooking in the kitchen ceased to
frizzle; and the cook, who was just about to box the kitchen boy's
ears, fell asleep with her hand outstretched, and began to snore
aloud. The butler who was tasting the ale, fell asleep with the
jug at his lips.

A great hedge sprang up around the castle, which, as the years passed
on, grew and grew until it formed an impenetrable barrier around the
sleeping Palace. The old people of the country died, and their children
grew up and died also, and their children, and their children, and the
story of the sleeping Princess became a legend, handed down from one
generation to another; and a cloud of mystery, as thick and impenetrable
as the hedge of thorns, lay over the old castle. Many brave and gallant
Princes tried to force