iculty, the glorious
privilege of handing her her nightgown. The town and castle were
adorned with flags of all colors; walls were thrown down, yews were
planted, walks were graveled, old speeches were furbished up, stale
compliments were newly framed, and poems and sonnets that had done
duty everywhere were patched up anew. There was but one idea in the
kingdom--that of thankfulness to the prince for having chosen a wife
so worthy of him.

The kitchen was not forgotten. Three hundred scullions, a hundred
cooks, and fifty stewards set to work, under the superintendence of
the famous Bouchibus, the chief of the royal kitchens. Pigs were
killed, sheep cut up, capons larded, pigeons plucked, and turkeys
spitted; it was a universal massacre. It is impossible to have a feast
worthy of the name without the help of the poultry-yard.

In the midst of this bustle a beautiful wood-pigeon, with blue wings,
perched on one of the kitchen windows, and cooed, in a plaintive
voice,

"Bouchibus, tell me, for you must know, sure,
What has Carlino to do with the Moor?"

The great Bouchibus was at first too busy with public affairs to
attend to the cooing of a pigeon; but after a while he began to be
astonished at understanding the language of birds, and thought it his
duty to inform his new mistress of the wonder. The negress did not
disdain to go to the kitchen. As soon as she heard the song, with a
cry of affright, she ordered Bouchibus to catch the pigeon and make a
stew of it.

No sooner said than done. The poor bird suffered itself to be caught
without resistance. In an instant Bouchibus, armed with his great
knife, cut off its head and threw it into the garden. Three drops of
blood fell on the ground; and three days after there sprang from the
earth a beautiful citron-tree, which grew so fast that before night it
was in blossom.

The prince, while taking the air in his balcony, chanced to spy a
citron-tree which he had never seen before. He called the cook and
asked him who had planted this beautiful tree. The story of Bouchibus
perplexed him greatly. He at once commanded, under penalty of death,
that no one should touch the citron-tree, and that the greatest care
should be taken of it.

The next morning, as soon as he awoke, the prince hastened to the
garden. There were already three citrons on the tree--three citrons
exactly like those which the Fate had given him. Carlino gathered
them, hastened to his apartmen