shall get there.'

[Illustration: "COULD YOUR FATHER BUT SEE YOU, MY POOR CHILD."]

No suggestion could have been more warmly approved, the queen clasping
her hands, and bidding little Moufette do the same, in token of the
gratitude she felt towards the good Frog for offering to make the
expedition. Nor would the king, she declared, be less grateful. 'Of what
advantage, however,' she went on, 'will it be to him to learn that I
am in this dire abode, since it will be impossible for him to rescue me
from it?'

'That we must leave to Providence, Madam,' said the Frog; 'we can but
make those efforts of which we are capable.'

They took farewell of each other, and the queen sent a message to the
king. This was written with her blood on a piece of rag, for she had
neither ink nor paper. The good Frog was bringing him news of herself,
she wrote, and she implored him to give heed to all that she might tell
him, and to believe everything she had to say.

It took the Frog a year and four days to climb the ten thousand steps
which led from the gloomy realm in which she had left the queen, up into
the world. Another year was spent in preparing her equipage, for she was
too proud to consent to appear at Court like a poor and humble frog from
the marshes. A little sedan-chair was made for her, large enough to hold
a couple of eggs comfortably, and this was covered outside with
tortoise-shell and lined with lizard-skin. From the little green frogs
that hop about the meadows she selected fifty to act as maids of honour,
and each of these was mounted on a snail. They had dainty saddles, and
rode in dashing style with the leg thrown over the saddle-bow. A
numerous bodyguard of rats, dressed like pages, ran before the
snails--in short, nothing so captivating had ever been seen before. To
crown all, the cap of roses, which never faded but was always in full
bloom, most admirably became her. Being something of a coquette, too,
she could not refrain from a touch of rouge and a patch or two; indeed,
some said she was painted like a great many other ladies of the land,
but it has been proved by inquiry that this report had its origin with
her enemies.

The journey lasted seven years, and during all that time the poor queen
endured unutterable pain and suffering. Had it not been for the solace
of the beautiful Moufette she must have died a hundred times. Every word
that the dear little creature uttered filled her with delight; indeed,
w