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Then a beautiful rosy mouth, growing on a very tall stalk, turned to the others and called, “Silence!” and bending towards Rupert said, “Listen; take out your penknife and cut that nut in pieces, and give them to us, and we will bite off some of the silver rods for you, so that you can pass through to the Hair Tree.”

Rupert agreed, and taking out his penknife began to chop up the nut, whilst a number of mouths turned themselves to the silver rods and began to bite their stalks. It was vain for the rods to slash about, they could not hurt the lip-flowers, who went on steadily gnawing till half a dozen rods lay on the ground, leaving a clear path through to the Hair Tree.

Rupert at once gave the pieces of nut to the mouths (which opened greedily to receive them), and walked up to the tree and stood beneath it.

What a wonderful tree it was! The hair rippled down from all its branches, and was of all colours—black outside, and growing lighter and lighter till, quite near the trunk, it was of fine pure gold. Rupert took hold of it and passed it through his fingers. How soft and thick it felt! What would not the court ladies have given for