the most gorgeous Princess, I fancy, he went clattering up the long road, his thick brown curls flying merrily out behind. His song ceased abruptly, for suddenly bald heads began to appear on all sides. They bobbed and bowed from the roadway, they nodded and beckoned to him from the palace windows. A whole company came rushing to meet him, and so dazzling was the sun reflected from their shining crowns that Sambrun grew dizzy and nearly tumbled from his horse. He rubbed his eyes and then looked again. Yes, there they were. Mercies! "What horrible calamity has overtaken us?" gasped the Prince, and—
Chapter III.
WITHOUT waiting to listen to their story, he leaped from his horse and dashed into the great hall. Within all was gloom, but at the sight of the Prince the Queen rushed from her throne and fell fainting at his feet.
"Welcome home," roared the King. "Are we not all beautiful, my son?"
Sambrun lifted the fainting Queen and looked about shudderingly.
"Horrible!" exclaimed the Prince, looking his father straight in the eye. "What does it mean, I pray, Sir?"
"Mean?" snapped the King, flying into a violent passion and next instant had the Prince seized by six strong guardsmen. The Queen wept and pleaded in vain, the King only laughed the more wickedly and the Barber, whose fingers had been itching with impatience, stepped up and snip, snap, went the relentless shears, and soon—soon—the most charming Prince was as bald as the baldest of them. "Well," demanded the King, "are we not beautiful?" but still Sambrun stubbornly shook his head.
"What—what!" roared the King, and sent his royal snuffbox flying at the Prince's head. Sambrun shrugged his shoulders and said, "No," louder than ever. Oh, he was a
