f knowing that his Caspar bade fair to
become as clever a cobbler as any in the city.

Several years had passed, and Caspar lived on alone in the little attic
near the castle wall. The way up to his room was dark and narrow, up
rickety stairs, and along crooked passages; but, once at the top, there
was plenty of cheerful light streaming in through the dormer-window, and
the twittering of the birds, as they built their nests in the eaves, had
something pleasant and gay.

The feathered songsters were Caspar's most constant companions, and he
understood every word they said. He confided to them all his secrets,
amongst others, what a proud man he should be, the day he made a pair of
shoes for the king! Other secrets he imparted also to the birds, which
the city folk down in the streets guessed little about.

Many and many a time, as Caspar sat so much alone, he would sigh, and
wish that his fairy-godmother would come and see him sometimes. But,
alas, that could not be, for the king had given strict orders that the
sentinels posted at the city gates should allow "no fairy bodies" in.
Even the very last of the kind was, by a new law, banished to
far-distant fairyland. "No more magic wands, no more wonders nowadays,"
sighed poor Caspar; "nothing can be won but by hard and constant work,
work, work!"

Moreover, poor Caspar had to learn that even honest work sometimes fails
to ward off hunger and poverty. For many a long month the crooked
little cobbler was doomed to toil, and to suffer privation as well. He
might make his boots and shoes night and day, and lay them out, pair by
pair, in neat rows along a shelf in the corner of his attic, but what
availed all this if no customer ever ventured up to look at them, nor
even to order mendings?

The fact was, that about this time the folk in that old city began to
wear _wooden_ shoes, which, they said, were good enough for them, and
lasted longer than any other.

Only fair-haired, blue-eyed Mabel, Dame Dimity's daughter, who had the
daintiest little feet in the world, and knew how to dance like any
fairy--she wore lovely little shoes manufactured by Caspar.

When Midsummer-day came round Mabel was elected May-queen. Then she came
tripping up the rickety staircase, and along the dingy passage to the
attic workshop, in Cobweb Corner. "Caspar, Caspar, here, quick! My
measure for a darling little pair of shoes to dance in!" and she held
out the most elegant little foot which any