nd embraces--was never very clearly
related, not even by Gilliflower and Becafico, who were present, but
who considerately drew aside, and spent the time in conversing with
one another. So passed the night; and anxiously they awaited for the
dawn, to see whether the beautiful princess would again become a hind
of the forest. But the day broke, grew clearer, brightened into
sunrise, and the princess, with the prince sitting beside her,
remained a beautiful maiden still. Then came a knock at the door, and
there entered the little old woman, who had been such a kind hostess
for all this while.

"The period of enchantment is ended, my children," said she. "Go home
and be happy." And then they knew her as no longer the little old
woman, but the Fairy Tulip, who had thus faithfully watched her
charge.

So the bride and bridegroom returned to their capital, where the
marriage was solemnized with all splendour, and, at Desiree's request,
Longthorn and her mother, who had been imprisoned by the old king's
order, were set free, with no further punishment than banishment to
their own country, where they were to remain for life. As for the
faithful Gilliflower, she stayed at court, with her beloved mistress,
and became the wife of the equally faithful Becafico, who had served
Prince Warrior as devotedly as she the Princess Desiree. The two were
laden with wealth and honours, and shared the happiness of the other
two lovers, which was as great as any mortal could desire. After their
death the story of the White Hind of the Forest was commanded to be
written down in the archives of the state, and thence it has been told
in tradition, or sung in poetry, half over the world.

THE JUNIPER-TREE.

One or two thousand years ago, there was a rich man, who had a
beautiful and pious wife; they loved one another dearly, but they had
no children. They wished and prayed for some night and day, but still
they had none. In front of their house was a yard, where stood a
Juniper-tree, and under it the wife stood once in winter, and peeled
an apple, and as she peeled the apple she cut her finger, and the
blood fell on the snow.

"Oh," said she, sighing deeply and looking sorrowfully at the blood,
"if I only had a child as red as blood, and as white as snow!"

While she spoke, she became quite happy; it seemed to her as if her
wish would surely come to pass. Then she went into the house; and a
month passed, and the snow melted; and two