l about it from the beginning," he said. "You have found
out something after all, I believe."

So Wiggs told her story from the beginning. How the fairy had given
her a ring; how the Countess had taken it from her for five minutes
and had a bad wish on it; and how Wiggs had found her out that very
morning.

Udo was intensely excited by the story. He trotted up and down the
library, muttering to himself. He stopped in front of Wiggs as soon
as she had finished.

"Is the ring still going?" he asked. "I mean, can you have another
wish on it?"

"Yes, just one."

"Then wish her to be turned into a----" He tried to think of
something that would meet the case. "What about a spider?" he said
thoughtfully.

"But that's a _bad_ wish," said Wiggs.

"Yes, but it's _her_ turn."

"Oh, but I'm only allowed a good wish now." She added rapturously,
"And I know what it's going to be."

So did Udo. At least he thought he did.

"Oh, you dear," he said, casting an affectionate look on her.

"Yes, that's it. That I might be able to dance like a fairy."

Udo could hardly believe his ears, and they were adequate enough for
most emergencies.

"But how is that going to help _me?_" he said, tapping his chest with
his paw.

"But it's _my_ ring," said Wiggs. "And so of course I'm going to wish
that I can dance like a fairy. I've always meant to, as soon as I've
been good for a day first."

The child was absurdly selfish. Udo saw that he would have to appeal
to her in another way.

"Of course," he began, "I've nothing to say against dancing _as_
dancing, but I think you'll get tired of it. Just as I shall get
tired of--lettuce."

Wiggs understood now.

"You mean that I might wish you to be a Prince again?"

"Well," said Udo casually, "it just occurred to me as an example of
what might be called the Good Wish."

"Then I shall never be able to dance like a fairy?"

"Neither shall I, if it comes to that," said Udo. Really, the child
was very stupid.

"Oh, it's too cruel," said Wiggs, stamping her foot. "I did so want
to be able to dance."

Udo glanced gloomily into the future.

"To live for ever behind wire netting," he mused; "to be eternally
frightened by pink-eyed ferrets; to be offered
bran-mash--bran-mash--bran-mash wherever one visited week after week,
month after month, year after year, century after--how long _do_
rabbits live?"

But Wiggs was not to be moved.

"I _won't_ give up my wish,"