ced on and
on, and just as it had come to the end of the golden thread, it reached
the King's son.

'What do I see?' he cried; 'this spindle seems to wish to point out the
way to me.' So he turned his horse's head and rode back beside the
golden thread.

Meantime the girl sat weaving, and sang:

'Shuttle, weave both web and woof,
Bring my love beneath my roof.'

The shuttle instantly escaped from her hand, and with one bound was out
at the door. On the threshold it began weaving the loveliest carpet that
was ever seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on both sides, and in the centre
a thicket seemed to grow with rabbits and hares running through it,
stags and fawns peeping through the branches, whilst on the topmost
boughs sat birds of brilliant plumage and so life-like one almost
expected to hear them sing. The shuttle flew from side to side and the
carpet seemed almost to grow of itself.

[Illustration]

As the shuttle had run away the girl sat down to sew. She took her
needle and sang:

'Needle, needle, stitch away,
Make my chamber bright and gay,'

and the needle promptly slipped from her fingers and flew about the room
like lightning. You would have thought invisible spirits were at work,
for in next to no time the table and benches were covered with green
cloth, the chairs with velvet, and elegant silk curtains hung before the
windows. The needle had barely put in its last stitch when the girl,
glancing at the window, spied the white plumed hat of the King's son who
was being led back by the spindle with the golden thread.

He dismounted and walked over the carpet into the house, and when he
entered the room there stood the girl blushing like any rose. 'You are
the poorest and yet the richest,' said he: 'come with me, you shall be
my bride.'

She said nothing, but she held out her hand. Then he kissed her, and led
her out, lifted her on his horse and took her to his royal palace, where
the wedding was celebrated with great rejoicings.

The spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were carefully placed in the
treasury, and were always held in the very highest honour.

Grimm.

_THE CRYSTAL COFFIN_

Now let no one say that a poor tailor can't get on in the world, and,
indeed, even attain to very high honour. Nothing is required but to set
the right way to work, but of course the really important thing is to
succeed.

A very bright active young tailor once set off on his travels, which l