And next morning all the newspapers contained an advertisement:

'Wanted, competent Prince to undo magic and restore Princesses to
their right size. None but eldest sons need apply. The usual reward
offered. Apply at the palace.'

'I think _that's_ a mistake, daddy,' said the Princess; 'in the fairy
stories it's always the youngest son who makes everything come right.
And people don't know their fairy history nowadays; they mayn't know
what the reward is.'

So the next day the advertisement was changed to:

'Any sons of respectable monarchs may apply. The successful
candidate will receive the Princess's hand in marriage.'

'It's all very well to put that in,' said the Princess to herself, 'but
if I don't like him I shan't marry him. I'll give him all my jewels
instead.'

But all the Kings' sons in the world had forgotten their magic, if they
ever knew any, and not one single Prince applied at the palace.

So the Princess had to do the only possible thing--make the best of it.
And she did it bravely.

Now, when the fly, whose name, by the way, was Muscadel, flew off from
the foxglove-bell with the magic jewel on his feathery foot, he flew
straight to the Princess's boudoir and settled down on his favourite
spot, the corner of the frame of her mirror. And there he sat and
wondered how he could best use the magic jewel. And he thought so hard
that he never noticed a large spider who spun a web right across the
corner where he sat, and when he spread his wings to assist his
meditations by a little exercise he was caught in the web.

'Aha!' said the spider, smiling greedily.

'Oh dear! oh dear!' said the fly.

'How nice you look!' said the spider.

Then very slowly and carefully she began to move towards him.

'What a terrible thing it is to be a fly!' said he. 'I wish I was a
spider.'

And, of course, instantly he was. He broke the web and scrambled down
the mirror, for he was still horribly frightened of the other spider. He
got out of the window and down into the garden, and hid himself under a
leaf of a burdock, which was there because the gardener was a lazy
fellow and neglected his business.

But it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. Before Muscadel had got
his breath after the shock of that dreadful web he saw a slow,
wrinkled-skinned creature, with bright yellow eyes, quite close to him.
It was a toad, and he knew that toads eat spiders.

'Oh, a spider's life isn'