anted to find some defect in him, but
he had nothing remarkable but a ring of brown curling hair under his
chin. She admired him a little, and then carried it off with, "I won't
have you, Whiskers!"

So all went away, and the King was so vexed, he said to her, "Now
to punish your _impedence_, I'll give you to the first beggar-man or
singing _sthronshuch_ that calls;" and, as sure as the hearth-money,
a fellow all over rags, with hair that came to his shoulders, and a
bushy red beard all over his face, came next morning, and began to
sing before the parlor window.

When the song was over, the hall-door was opened, the singer asked in,
the priest brought, and the Princess married to Beardy. She roared and
she bawled, but her father didn't mind her. "There," says he to the
bridegroom, "is five guineas for you. Take your wife out of my sight,
and never let me lay eyes on you or her again."

Off he led her, and dismal enough she was. The only thing that gave
her relief was the tones of her husband's voice and his genteel
manners. "Whose wood is this?" said she, as they were going through
one. "It belongs to the King you called Whiskers yesterday." He gave
her the same answer about meadows and cornfields, and at last a fine
city. "Ah, what a fool I was!" said she to herself. "He was a fine
man, and I might have him for a husband." At last they were coming up
to a poor cabin. "Why are you bringing me here?" says the poor lady.
"This was my house," said he, "and now it's yours." She began to cry,
but she was tired and hungry, and she went in with him.

Ovoch! there was neither a table laid out, nor a fire burning, and she
was obliged to help her husband to light it, and boil their dinner,
and clean up the place after; and next day he made her put on a stuff
gown and a cotton handkerchief. When she had her house readied up, and
no business to keep her employed, he brought home sallies [willows],
peeled them, and showed her how to make baskets. But the hard twigs
bruised her delicate fingers, and she began to cry. Well, then he
asked her to mend their clothes, but the needle drew blood from her
fingers, and she cried again. He couldn't bear to see her tears, so
he bought a creel of earthenware, and sent her to the market to sell
them. This was the hardest trial of all, but she looked so handsome
and sorrowful, and had such a nice air about her, that all her pans,
and jugs, and plates, and dishes were gone before noon, and the