Presently a window opened, and Cherry saw Zelia lean out and throw down
a piece of meat. He seized it and was just going to devour it, when the
old woman to whom he had given his crust snatched it away and took him
in her arms. "No, you shall not eat it, you poor little thing," she
said, "for every bit of food in that house is poisoned."

At the same moment, a voice said, "Good actions never go unrewarded!"
And instantly Prince Cherry was transformed into a little white dove.

With great joy, he flew to the open palace window to seek out his Zelia,
to try to help her. But though he hunted in every room, no Zelia was to
be found. He had to fly away, without seeing her. He wanted more than
anything else to find her, and stay near her, so he flew out into the
world, to seek her.

He sought her in many lands, until one day, in a far eastern country, he
found her sitting in a tent, by the side of an old, white-haired hermit.
Cherry was wild with delight. He flew to her shoulder, caressed her hair
with his beak, and cooed in her ear.

"You dear, lovely little thing!" said Zelia. "Will you stay with me? If
you will, I will love you always."

"Ah, Zelia, see what you have done!" laughed the hermit. At that
instant, the white dove vanished, and Prince Cherry stood there, as
handsome and charming as ever, and with a look of kindness and modesty
in his eyes which had never been there before. At the same time, the
hermit stood up, his flowing hair changed to shining gold, and his face
became a lovely woman's face; it was the Fairy Candide. "Zelia has
broken your spell," she said to the prince, "as I meant she should, when
you were worthy of her love."

Zelia and Prince Cherry fell at the fairy's feet. But with a beautiful
smile she bade them come to their kingdom. In a trice, they were
transported to the prince's palace, where King Suliman greeted them with
tears of joy. He gave back the throne with all his heart, and King
Cherry ruled again, with Zelia for his queen.

He wore the little gold ring all the rest of his life, but never once
did it have to prick him hard enough to make his finger bleed.

FOOTNOTES:

[30] A shortened version of the familiar tale.

THE GOLD IN THE ORCHARD[31]

There was once a farmer who had a fine olive orchard. He was very
industrious, and the farm always prospered under his care. But he knew
that his three sons despised the farm work, and were eager to make
wealth fast, through