could stick my awl through him!"

Poor Caspar, it was well that at this instant he was accosted by his
loving little angel, his sweet, blue-eyed Mabel!

"Eh, my Caspar, whatever has come over you, and whither are you going,
that you do not even see your own Mabel? And, oh! I am thankful to have
met you now, for look, Caspar, with trudging past Cobweb Corner every
day my pretty shoes are well-nigh worn through! So I must have a new
pair, and you may set about making them at once."

Then poor Caspar told her about his grievous disappointment at the
castle, and the insults and humiliation he had experienced at the hands
of the royal underlings. "It is too bad." he said, "to think that nobody
knows that I made them!"

"The swallows know it," added Mabel pensively, "and you should have
followed their advice; for, after all, they are your best friends."

"What!" returned Caspar sharply, "and sent only one at a time? Is that
what you mean, Mabel?"

"I dare say that was what _they_ meant," she returned.

Caspar groaned.

"But look," continued the little maiden gaily, her blue eyes dancing
with a bright idea, "remember this, O Caspar, the king's shoes must
by-and-by become worn through, like mine! And then--and then, he must
have new ones too--and then--and then we'll take the swallows' advice,
and act with greater caution."

That evening when Caspar went home to Cobweb Corner, and flung open his
gable-window, there were _no_ graceful circles described overhead, and
_no_ twittering amongst the eaves. All was silent. The swallows had
taken leave of Cobweb Corner, and of the royal castle, and of the quaint
old city, with its many spires and turrets. They were off, all together,
a joyous merry troup of tourists, swiftly, swiftly winging their way to
warmer climes for the winter.

Poor Caspar missed them sadly, and reproached them a little at first for
being heartless, selfish creatures. Soon, however, he gained courage
again; and began to work at Mabel's shoes ... and then at the king's--to
have them ready by spring time, when, as the little maiden said, "the
others should be worn out."

Several times that winter Caspar saw the king walk out in the identical
shoes his hands had manufactured; and his heart gave a leap every time
he observed them becoming thinner.

At last the soft western breezes, the budding flowers, and the
bright-blue, sunny sky of springtime came again; and the swallows
returned swiftly, swiftly,