everybody, and why she was so unhappy. And that very
evening he flew off to Dooros Wood, and called on a cousin of his and
told him all about Rosaleen.

"And you want some of the fairy berries, I suppose," said his cousin,
Robin of the Wood.

"I do," said Rosaleen's little friend.

"Ah," said Robin of the Wood, "times have changed since you were here
last. The tree is guarded now all the day long by a surly giant. He
sleeps in the branches during the night, and he breathes upon them and
around them every morning, and his breath is poison to bird and bee.
There is only one chance open, and if you try that it may cost you
your life."

"Then tell me what it is, for I would give a hundred lives for
Rosaleen," said her own little robin.

"Well," said Robin of the Wood, "every day a champion comes to battle
with the giant, and the giant, before he begins the fight, puts a
branch of berries in the iron belt that's around his waist, so that
when he feels tired or thirsty he can refresh himself, and there is
just a bare chance, while he is fighting, of picking one of the
berries from the branch; but if his breath fall on you it is certain
death."

"I will take the chance," said Rosaleen's robin.

"Very well," said the other. And the two birds flew through the wood
until they came within sight of the fairy tree. The giant was lying
stretched at the foot of it, eating the berries; but it was not long
until a warrior came, who challenged him to battle. The giant jumped
up, and plucking a branch from the tree stuck it in his belt, and
swinging his iron club above his head strode towards the warrior, and
the fight began. The robin perched on a tree behind the giant, and
watched and waited for his chance; but it was a long time coming, for
the berries were in front of the giant's belt. At last the giant, with
one great blow, struck the warrior down, but as he did so he stumbled
and fell upon him, and before he had time to recover himself the
little robin darted towards him like a flash and picked off one of the
berries, and then, as fast as wings could carry him, he flew towards
home, and on his way he passed over a troop of warriors on snow-white
steeds. All the horsemen except one wore silver helmets and shining
mantles of green silk, fastened by brooches of red gold, but the
chief, who rode at the head of the troop, wore a golden helmet, and
his mantle was of yellow silk, and he looked by far the noblest of
them all. When