h great goodness of heart, took along this extraordinary object, in
the hope of finding its angry possessor.

Farther on, the lad encountered Tilda's father, the unhappy King, and
delivered his message. The joy of the monarch knew no bounds, and Bobo,
the one-time simpleton, became on the spot Lord Bobo of the Sapphire
Hills, Marquis of the Mountains of the Moon, Prince of the Valley of
Golden Apples, and Lord Seneschal of the proud City of Zizz--in a word,
the greatest nobleman in all Fairyland. Then, having got together a
magnificent cohort of dukes, earls, and counts, all in splendid silks,
and soldiers in shining armor, the delighted King rode off to claim his
missing daughter from Princess Zenza.

So on they rode, the harnesses jingling, the bridle-bells ringing, and
the breastplates of the armed men shining in the sun. After a week of
almost constant progress (for the King was so anxious to see his beloved
daughter that he would hardly give the cavalcade time to rest), they
came to the frontiers of Princess Zenza's kingdom.

Strange to say, black mourning banners hung from the trees, and every
door in the first village which the travelers saw was likewise hung with
black streamers. On the steps of one of the cottages sat an old woman,
all alone and weeping with all her might.

"What is the matter, my good woman?" said the King.

"O sir," said the peasant woman, "evil days have fallen upon our unhappy
kingdom. Three days ago a terrible dragon alighted in the gardens of the
palace and sent word to Princess Zenza that if within three days she did
not provide him with someone brave enough to go home with him and cook
his meals and keep his cavern tidy, he would burn our fields with his
fiery breath. Yet who, I ask you, would be housekeeper for a dragon?
Suppose he did n't like the puddings you made for him--why, he might eat
you up! All would have been lost had not a brave little kitchen-maid
named Tilda volunteered to go. It is for her that we are mourning. At
two o'clock she is to be carried off by the dragon. It is almost two
now. Alas! Alas!"

Hardly were the words out of her mouth, when the town bell struck twice,
solemnly and sadly.

"Quick! quick!" cried the King and Bobo in the same breath, "Let us
hurry to the castle. We may save her yet."

But they knew in their hearts that they were too late, and that poor
Tilda had given herself to the dragon. And so it proved. In spite of his
mad dash, Bobo, who