now it I will,' cried she, 'and I will
beat you till you tell me.'

But it was no use, neither words nor blows would get the secret out of
the boy; and when her arm was quite tired and she had to leave off, the
child, sore and aching, ran into the garden and knelt weeping beside his
little sword. It was working round and round in its hole all by itself,
and if anyone except the boy had tried to catch hold of it, he would
have been badly cut. But the moment he stretched out his hand it stopped
and slid quietly into the scabbard.

For a long time the child sat sobbing, and the noise was heard by the
king as he was driving by. 'Go and see who it is that is crying so,'
said he to one of his servants, and the man went. In a few minutes he
returned saying: 'Your Majesty, it is a little boy who is kneeling there
sobbing because his mother has beaten him.'

'Bring him to me at once,' commanded the monarch, 'and tell him that it
is the king who sends for him, and that he has never cried in all his
life and cannot bear anyone else to do so.' On receiving this message
the boy dried his tears and went with the servant to the royal carriage.
'Will you be my son?' asked the king.

'Yes, if my mother will let me,' answered the boy. And the king bade the
servant go back to the mother and say that if she would give her boy to
him, he should live in the palace and marry his prettiest daughter as
soon as he was a man.

The widow's anger now turned into joy, and she came running to the
splendid coach and kissed the king's hand. 'I hope you will be more
obedient to his Majesty than you were to me,' she said; and the boy
shrank away half-frightened. But when she had gone back to her cottage,
he asked the king if he might fetch something that he had left in the
garden, and when he was given permission, he pulled up his little sword,
which he slid into the scabbard.

Then he climbed into the coach and was driven away.

After they had gone some distance the king said: 'Why were you crying so
bitterly in the garden just now?'

'Because my mother had been beating me,' replied the boy.

'And what did she do that for?' asked the king again.

'Because I would not tell her my dream.'

'And why wouldn't you tell it to her?'

'Because I will never tell it to anyone till it comes true,' answered
the boy.

'And won't you tell it to me either?' asked the king in surprise.

'No, not even to you, your Majesty,' replied he.

'Oh, I am sure