cry at cross purposes?'

The old woman cried from a wide mouth: 'It is my mistress, the
honey-jewel of my heart, whom you see here so grievously enchanted.
All the gifts of the fairies at her christening did not prevent what
was foretold of her at her birth. In her seventeenth year, as you see
her now, so it was told of her that she should be.'

'Does she live?' asked Noodle; 'is she asleep? She is not dead; when
will she wake? Tell me, old woman, her history, and how this fate has
come upon her.'

'She was the daughter of the king of this country by his first wife,'
said the old woman, 'and heir to the throne after his death; but when
her mother died the king married again, and the three daughters he had
by his second wife were jealous of the beauty, and charm, and goodness
which raised their sister so high above them in the estimation of all
men. So they asked their mother to teach them a spell that should rob
Melilot of her charms, and make them useless in the eyes of men. And
their mother, who was wise in such arts, taught to each of them a
spell, so that together they might work their will.

'One day they came running to Melilot, and said, "Come and play with
us a new game that our mother has taught us!" Then they began turning
themselves into flowers. "I will be a hollyhock!" said one. "And I
will be a columbine!" said another; and saying the spell over each
other they became each the flower they had named.

'Then they unloosed the spells, and became themselves again. "Oh, it
is so nice to be a flower!" they cried, laughing and clapping their
hands. But Melilot knew no spell.

'At last, seeing how her sisters turned into flowers, and came back
safe again, "I will be a rose!" she cried; "turn me into a rose and
out again!"

'Then her three sisters joined their tongues together, and finished the
spell over her. And so soon as she had become a rose-tree, the three
sisters turned into three moles, and went down under the earth and
gnawed at the roots.

'Then they came up, and took their own forms again, and sang,--

'"Sister, sister, here you are now,
Till the ploughman come with the Galloping Plough!"

'Then they turned into bees, and sucked out the honey from the roses,
and coming to themselves again they sang,--

'"Sister, here you must doze and doze,
Till they bring you a flower of the Burning Rose!"

'Then they shook the dewdrops out of her eyes, crying,--

"Sister, your brain lies unde