eal nice christening, Martin dear, and invite all
the _good fairies_. And next week you will go on with your gardening
again, you know, just as if nothing had happened."

So they had as grand a christening as people in their circumstances
could afford. The baby was called Lionel, "which," remarked some of the
neighbours, "was quite too fine a name for a common gardener's son."
Only one bright little, gay little fairy could be found who had time to
come to the christening. But she was a good-natured little thing, that
somehow always found exactly time to render a great many kindly
services. She willingly became Lionel's godmother, and promised to help
him through life as far as she could. "However," added the little lady,
with a sigh, "there's many a wicked fairy in the land may try to throw a
shadow across his path."

Now the day after the christening, and after the fairy's departure, the
troubles in little Lionel's home appeared to set in. Martin's leather
money-bag hung empty, and there was very little bread in the house for
his wife to eat; and this Saturday night no wages were coming due. Oh,
how he yearned for Monday morning, that he might go at his digging
again; and how anxiously he hoped that all might continue as before!

Slowly the week dragged out, the lagging hours weighing like chains on
the heart of the honest yeoman, who was not accustomed to idleness.

At last the Monday morning dawned, with rustling of leaves, and
twittering of birds; and Martin flung his clothes on, and hastened forth
to the royal garden.

Ah, me! the place looked neglected since only last week. The roses and
carnations hung their heads for want of a drop of water, and the leaves
of the fuchsias had mostly turned white. Weeds were staring out boldly
right and left; and the box-borders, that had ever been so trim and
neat, just appeared as if all the cats and dogs in the country-side had
gathered in on purpose to tear them to pieces.

Martin sped to the toolhouse for his watering-can, rake and hoe; but he
was somewhat dismayed indeed to find his implements broken in pieces,
and lying scattered about.

What could it mean?

He took a few strides towards the "lime walk," and gazed up at the
castle windows. The lattices were closed, and all was silent. But then,
of course, the old king and queen and My Lord Lackaday, and all the
princesses would be sleeping in their beds at this early hour of the
morning. Martin must wait until som