Genre Fantasy. Page - 13

licia and the angelic baby.

"What is the matter, Papa?"

"I am dreadfully poor, my child."

"Have you no money at all, Papa?"

[Illustration: "What is the matter, Papa?"]

"None my child."

"Is there no way left of getting any, Papa?"

"No way," said the King. "I have tried very hard, and I have tried all ways."

When she heard those last words, the Princess Alicia began to put her hand into the pocket where she kept the magic fish-bone.

"Papa," said she, "when we have tried very hard, and tried all ways, we must have done our very very best?"

"No doubt, Alicia."

"When we have done our very very best, Papa, and that is not enough, then I think the right time must have come for asking help of others." This was the very secret connected with the magic fish-bone, which she had found out for herself from the good fairy Grandmarina's words, and which she had so often whispered to her beautiful and fashionable friend the Duchess.

So she to

ro. Fifteenth Constable's Historyp. Sixteenth Constable's History14. Tale of Harun Al-Rashid and Abdullah Bin Nafi'a. Tale of the Damsel Torfat Al-Kulub and the Caliph HarunAl-Rashid15. Women's Wiles16. Nur Al-Din Ali of Damascus and the Damsel Sitt Al-Milah17. Tale of King Ins Bin Kays and His Daughter with the Son ofKing Al-'abbas18. Tale of the Two kings and the Wazir's Daughters19. The Concubine and the Caliph20. The Concubine of Al-Maamun

Appendix: Variants and Analogues of Some of the Tales in Vols. XIand XII.by W. A. Clouston

The Sleeper and the WakerThe Ten Wazirs; or the History of King Azadbakht and His SonKing Dadbin and His WazirsKing Aylan Shah and Abu TammanKing Sulayman Shah and His NieceFiruz and His WifeKing Shah Bakht and His Wazir Al-RahwanOn the Art of Enlarging PearlsThe Singer and the DruggistThe King Who Kenned the Quintessence of ThingsThe Prince Who Fell In Love

his need of head covering, and he seemed unconscious of, or else indifferent to, the hot glare of the summer sky which was hardly tempered by the long shadow of the floating cloud. At some moments he was absorbed in reading,--at others in writing. Close within his reach was a small note-book in which from time to time he jotted down certain numerals and made rapid calculations, frowning impatiently as though the very act of writing was too slow for the speed of his thought. There was a wonderful silence everywhere,--a silence such as can hardly be comprehended by anyone who has never visited wide-spreading country, over-canopied by large stretches of open sky, and barricaded from the further world by mountain ranges which are like huge walls built by a race of Titans. The dwellers in such regions are few--there is no traffic save the coming and going of occasional pack-mules across the hill tracks--no sign of modern civilisation. Among such deep and solemn solitudes the sight of a living human being is strang

en Wazirs; or the History of King Azadbakht and His Son a. Of the Uselessness of Endeavour Against Persistent Ill Fortune aa. Story of the Merchant Who Lost His Luck b. Of Looking To the Ends of Affairs bb. Tale of the Merchant and His Sons c. Of the Advantages of Patience cc. Story of Abu Sabir d. Of the Ill Effects of Impatience dd. Story of Prince Bihzad e. Of the Issues of Good and Evil Actions ee. Story of King Dadbin and His Wazirs f. Of Trust in Allah ff. Story of King Bakhtzaman g. Of Clemency gg. Story of King Bihkard h. Of Envy and Malice hh. Story of Aylan Shah and Abu Tammam i. Of Destiny or That Which Is Written On the Forehead ii. Story of King Ibrahim and His Son j. Of the Appointed Term, Which, if it be Advanced, May Not Be Deferred, and if it be Deferred, May Not Be Advanced jj. Story of King Sulayman Shah and His Niece k. Of the Speedy Relief of Allah kk. Story of the Prisoner and How Allah Gave Him Relief 6. Ja'afar Bin Yahya and Abd Al-Malik Bin Salih the Abbaside 7. Al-Rashid and the Barm

nough to tease.

'Look here,' said Anthea. 'Let's have a palaver.' This worddated from the awful day when Cyril had carelessly wished thatthere were Red Indians in England--and there had been. The wordbrought back memories of last summer holidays and everyonegroaned; they thought of the white house with the beautifultangled garden--late roses, asters, marigold, sweet mignonette,and feathery asparagus--of the wilderness which someone had oncemeant to make into an orchard, but which was now, as Father said,'five acres of thistles haunted by the ghosts of babycherry-trees'. They thought of the view across the valley, wherethe lime-kilns looked like Aladdin's palaces in the sunshine, andthey thought of their own sandpit, with its fringe of yellowygrasses and pale-stringy-stalked wild flowers, and the littleholes in the cliff that were the little sand-martins' littlefront doors. And they thought of the free fresh air smelling ofthyme and sweetbriar, and the scent of the wood-smoke from theco