d those which were not
yet opened.

Moreover, there grew here and there in the garden a plant or shrub,
which, Martin considered, would have been better removed; especially one
large lauristinus, which, he declared, "destroyed all symmetry," and
"hindered the flowers about it from enjoying the sunshine."

But the old king obstinately opposed changes of this sort, and strictly
forbade his gardener, on any pretext whatever, to remove the
lauristinus; as it was well known at the court that for generations a
spell was connected with this special shrub, and that therefore the less
it was meddled with the better.

All this interference tended to sour poor Martin's temper; but he
himself declared it was nothing compared to the aggravating behaviour of
Prince Primus, commonly called "Lord Lackaday," the king's eldest son.

This young nobleman, who was renowned far and wide for his indolent
habits, sauntered forth every day with a little boy carrying his
fishing-tackle, away through the lovely gardens, without once turning
his head to behold the brilliant parterres of "calceolarias,
pelargoniums, petunias and begonias," or to inhale the sweet-scented
heliotropes,--away through the park, and on to the river; for my Lord
Lackaday's sole pastime was angling.

"Humph! there he goes with his tackle," Martin would murmur, turning
from tying up his carnations to stare after him. "If old Martin, now,
were to spend _his_ days lying stretched _his_ full length on the
grass, with a rod dangling in the water before him, what would the world
come to? And where would _you_ be, my beauties?" he added, continuing
his occupation. "Hanging your lovely heads, my darlings!" And so he
grumbled and mumbled in an undertone to himself the whole livelong day,
until he went home to his supper at night; when his good wife, Ursula,
would endeavour to cheer him with her hearty welcome.

One evening Martin went with his clay pipe and his pewter ale-pot in his
hand to the village inn, to divert himself listening to the general
gossip which was carried on there between the host and the little group
of customers--weavers, tinkers, tailors, blacksmiths and labourers.
To-night they talked of the rich old king and queen, and Lord Lackaday,
and all the gay princesses, knights and ladies, who lived at the court,
and rode by in such splendid carriages, in such gorgeous attire.

"They eat out of golden dishes," said the tailor, "and the very nails in
their boo