n, the spidery
little fellow reached up and snatched the turnip from Leo's hand.

"What's the matter now?" asked Leo, too tired to regain it, easily as he
could have done so.

"I can't see anybody eat such wretched stuff as that; wait till I cook
it," said Paz.

"Well, Paz, I am glad you can help me out of my difficulty," said Knops.
"I really am puzzled what to do for Prince Leo's hunger. My breakfast
is a wren's egg; for dinner, a sardine with a slice of mushroom is
enough for four of us; for supper, a pickled mouse tongue. How long
could you live on such fare, Leo?"

"Not long, I fear."

"So I supposed. Well, here is the dormitory; by pushing up a dozen or
more beds, you can stretch out awhile. Meanwhile I can attend to some
professional duties, after I have despatched Paz for your food. What are
you going to do with that turnip, Paz?"

"An elf who can make diamonds from charcoal can perhaps produce
beefsteak from a turnip," said Leo.

"Ah! don't remind me of my bitter humiliation, kind sir," said Paz, in a
sad tone. "I will do what I can for you. Do you like soup?"

"Immensely."

"And roast quail?"

"Delicious!"

"Apple tart?"

"Nothing better."

"Adieu, then, for an hour."

Knops too departed, leaving Leo to look about him, with curious eyes,
upon rows of little beds, each with a scarlet blanket, and each having
its pitcher and basin conveniently at hand. But he soon was fast asleep.

While all this was happening to Leo, at the monastery there was great
confusion. The servants had gone in a body to Prince Morpheus's bedroom
to demand their wages. With tearful eyes and wailing voice he had
protested that he had no money, that his life was hanging by a thread,
and that his brain was on fire. They loudly urged their claims,
declaring they would instantly leave the premises unless they were paid.
As they could not get a satisfactory reply from their master, who hid
his eyes at the sight of their angry faces, and put his fingers in his
ears to keep out their noisy voices, they concluded to go; so, packing
their boxes and bags, and pressing the mules and oxen into their
service, they one by one went off to the nearest village.

One old woman, who had never known any other home, alone remained, and
when the storm subsided and the house was quiet, Morpheus, being
hungry, crawled down to the kitchen fire to find her boiling porridge.

"Where is my son?" asked Morpheus.

The old woman was deaf, and o