"There are many, mother, who talk of drink," said the man, "who never think of thirst. All I know is, the more one drinks the more one thirsts;" and with that he set off for the palace. When he got there, all the strangers were bidden to come in, and the charcoal-burner followed with the rest. So the king made them a speech, and said he had lost his costliest ring, and was quite sure it had been stolen. That was why he had summoned all the learned priests in the land, to see if there were one of them who could tell him who the thief was. And he made a vow there and then, and said what reward he would give to the man who found out the thief. If he were a curate, he should have a living; if he were a rector, he should be made a dean; if he were a dean, he should be made a bishop; and if he were a bishop, he should become the first man in the kingdom after the king.
So the king went round and round among them all, from one to the other, asking them if they could find the thief; and when he came to the charcoal-burner he said—
"Who are you?"
"I am the wise priest and the true prophet," said the charcoal-burner.
"Then you can tell me," said the king, "who has taken my ring?"
"Yes!" said the charcoal-burner; "it isn't so right against rhyme and reason that what has happened in darkness should come to light; but it isn't every year that salmon spawn in fir-tree tops. Here have I been a curate for seven years, trying to feed myself and my children, and I haven't got a living yet. If that thief is
