Bébè listened quietly to all that was said to her, and allowed herself to be led away by one of the little men, who had been appointed her chamberlain.

It was now getting late, and she was glad enough to be shown to her own room, that she might think over the many wonderful things which she had seen.

But here were new wonder and new riches.

Instead of being covered with a carpet, the floor was laid in squares of jasper, the windows were of pure white crystal instead of glass, and the curtains were made of a fine net-work of gold, caught back with a double row of amethysts.

The furniture was of gold and silver, exquisitely carved, and the quilt, which lay in stiff folds over the bed, was a marvel of beautiful colors that seemed to be now one thing and now another.

The Princess Bébè held her breath. "It will be like going to sleep on a rainbow," she said to herself, for the opal bed was full of changing colors, now red, now green, and then purple and soft rose-pink, and then, perhaps, green again. "There was never anything so beautiful as this!" exclaimed the princess, throwing herself down; but the next moment she was ready to cry with vexation, for there was neither warmth nor softness in the opal bed, and she lay awake all night, alternately shivering and crying.

"I won't stay in this place another moment," she said, the next morning, when the chamberlain knocked at her door.

The chamberlain bowed, and held before her a silver cup filled with jewels. "These are a present from the king to the Princess Bébè," he said, holding it up for her inspection.

There was first of all a diamond necklace, just what she had been wishing for; then there were ear-rings and bracelets of lapis lazuli of a beautiful azure color; string after string of pearls; emeralds set in buckles for her shoes; amethysts; sapphires as blue as the sea; and last of all a large topaz, which shone with a brilliant yellow light, as if it had been sunshine which some one had caught and imprisoned for her.

The Princess Bébè forgot for a moment her hard bed and sleepless night, and ran to the king to thank him for his presents.

"I am glad to find that you are pleased with your new home," said the king, graciously. "Did the princess sleep well during the night?"

"Oh, not at all well," she answered, forgetting her errand. "And I was very cold, besides."

"Cold? cold?" said the king, sharply. "We must see to that."

Turning to one of his attendants, who held a crystal cup on which were engraved the arms of the royal family, he took from it a stone of a dark orange color, and said,

"This is a jacinth, my dear princess. Whenever you are cold, you have only to rub your hands against it, and you will feel a delicious sense of warmth stealing through your limbs."

The princess rubbed her hands against the smooth stone as the king suggested; but she almost immediately threw it away again, crying out with pain.

"Oh, I don't like it at all," she exclaimed. "It pricks and hurts."

"It is nothing but the electricity," answered the king. "You will soon get accustomed to it, and I have no doubt will be quite fond of your electrical stove."

"I don't want to get accustomed to it," answered the princess. "I want to go home."

Then the king's face grew dark, and his pale blue eyes winked and blinked until they shone like two blazing lights.

"No one comes into our country to go away again," he said at length. "You are the Princess Bébè, adopted daughter of the king of the mineral-workers and the workers in stone, and with him you must stay for the rest of your life."

In spite of her diamond necklace, the princess was actually crying, although it is almost past belief that any one with a diamond necklace could cry; but the merry little mineral-workers, seeing the tears in her eyes, crowded around her, and tried their best to comfort her.

"Come into the garden," said one; and "Come to the gold chests," said another, "and see the diamonds."

"Diamonds!" exclaimed the princess, angrily and ungratefully: "I hate the very sight of them. But I would like to see the garden," she added, more gently.

Aleck, the gate-keeper, offered to act as escort, and the princess dried her eyes. He at least was her friend, she thought; and on the way to the garden, being very hungry, she ventured to ask him when they were to have breakfast.

"Breakfast!" he said. "Why, we don't have breakfasts here."

"Well, then, dinner," suggested the princess, meekly.

"Nor dinners either," replied the little man. "Why should we have dinners?"

"But at least you have suppers," said the princess, desperately, and feeling ready to cry again.

"What are you thinking of?" asked the gate-keeper, with an air of surprise.

Then the princess grew angry.

"What am I thinking of?" she cried, at the top of her voice. "I am thinking of something to eat—that's what I'm thinking of, and I'm almost starved."

The little gate-keeper looked up, with a curious smile on his face, and answered:

"Well, then, my dear princess, if that is what makes you unhappy, pray don't think of it any more. No one ever eats anything here. Indeed, I can not imagine anything more absurd."

Then, being at heart a very kind and obliging little person, he came close to the princess, and said:

"I am sorry for you—indeed I am, but don't give way to tears. They won't turn stones into bread. I beseech you, my dear Princess Bébè, to look at our fruit trees and flowers. They are considered very beautiful. I have no doubt but the sight of them will help you to bear this strange feeling which you call hunger." Then, kissing the princess's hand, he added: "I must leave you now and go to the gate. Amuse yourself in the garden, my dear princess, till I return."

It was a wondrously beautiful garden, as any one could see, but somehow the Princess Bébè did not get much comfort from it.

"Oh, if those were only real apples!" she sighed, for there were what seemed to be apple-trees in great abundance. But the apples were of malachite—a hard opaque stone of two shades of green—and when she tried to taste the grapes, she found they were only purple amethysts arranged in graceful clusters. The cherries were all of stone, instead of having a stone in the middle; and the plums were just as bad and just as beautiful—the cherries were deep red rubies, and the plums were made of chrysoprase. Nothing but hard glittering gems wherever she turned her eyes.

The poor princess seemed likely to die of starvation in spite of her riches, but she thought she would be almost willing to endure hunger if she could only have a rose that would smell like the sweet-brier roses which grew in Hollowbush in her own little garden. For what she had at first taken to be roses were, after all, nothing but pink coral cunningly carved, the daffodils were of amber, and the forget-me-nots were one and all made of the pale blue turquoise.

"It is very certain that I must die," said the princess, sadly, and she covered her face with her hands, crying bitterly, and praying that if death must come to her, it might come quickly.

[to be continued.]

JOE AND BLINKY.

Blinky was a poor dirty little puppy whom somebody had lost, and somebody else had stolen, and whose miserable little life was a burden to himself until Joe found him. It happened one warm day in July that Joe, whose bright eyes were always pretty wide open, saw a group of youngsters eagerly clustering about an object which appeared to interest them very much. This object squirmed, gasped, and occasionally kicked, to the great amusement of the little crowd, who liked excitement of any sort. Joe put his head over the shoulders of the