r him.

When Chrif and Andy entered the hall, the Princess saw them at once.
"Those two are the handsomest of all," she thought, "and one of them
is handsomer than the other."

She looked at Chrif again. Then she stepped down from the throne.

"Dance with me," she said, "and you shall have the pot of gold," and
she held out her hand to Chrif.

"What was I to do with it?" asked Chrif. "Oh, I know. I was to take it
home to Rhoda."

That moment the little bird burst open the pearl door. "Cuckoo!
cuckoo! cuckoo!" he cried.

But to Chrif he seemed to say: "Rhoda sits by the window watching for
Chrif. The flowers are dead in the boat-garden. 'Chrif will never come
back,' says grandmother, 'he cares nothing for us.'"

Again Chrif saw the beautiful hall and the Princess standing before
him. Then, suddenly, the music grew harsh; the palace walls fell; the
dancers were gone. Chrif was all alone.

_Chrif and his Books_

When day dawned, Chrif was walking over a wide plain. On the far side
of the plain stood a ruined house. Between a row of poplar-trees a
path led to the door.

Chrif knocked, but no one came. Then he pushed open the door and
entered. An old man sat at a table. The table was covered with great
books and many papers. Overhead a lamp burned dimly.

The old man was bent over the books. He seemed to study busily, but
when Chrif went near, he saw that the old man was dead.

There were two doors to this room. One was the door by which Chrif had
entered. The other was opposite. This door was of stone. On it was
written: "Behind this door is the Pot of Gold. To open you must first
read the words written below."

The words written below were strange; the letters too were strange.

"These books may help me read the writing," thought Chrif. "This old
man has spent his life in the search. Shall I be more successful I
wonder?"

Then he buried the old man, lighted the lamp, and read the books.
Weeks passed and even months. Chrif ate little and slept less.

At last, one day, he lifted a shining face. "I have found the secret!"
he cried, "the letters are plain."

Then stepping to the door, he read: "Knock and this door will open."

Chrif knocked once, and the door flew open. One shining spot he saw in
the darkness. It was the pot of gold.

Chrif put out his hand to take it, when lo! burning words shone on its
side. And Chrif read:

"I am the Pot of Gold; I can give thee all things save one. If thou
hast