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do it except the water of the Fair Fountain, and none but I and the nightingales know where it is.’

“‘One would not care to let the like be known,’ said the first little lady: ‘there would come such crowds of these great coarse creatures of mankind, nobody would have peace for leagues round. But you will surely send word to the sweet princess!—she was so kind to our birds and butterflies, and danced so like one of ourselves!’

“‘Not I, indeed!’ said the spiteful fairy. ‘Her old skinflint of a father cut down the cedar which I loved best in the whole forest, and made a chest of it to hold his money in; besides, I never liked the princess—everybody praised her so. But come, we shall be too late for the last dance.’”