you please." Forthwith the Lords of the realm untangled their shins and arranged themselves in a long line according to their rank.
Then the first one strode up to the chest. "Remember," warned the King, "I said the man who could handle my daughter's fortune, and I mean exactly what I say." The first Lord looked rather puzzled, in fact he did not know just what was expected of him. Slowly he drew off his gloves and fumbled with his watch chain. "Well," smiled the King, "why don't you begin. Can you handle my daughter's fortune or not. Come, be quick. There is the ring." The Lord put in his monocle and looked at the huge chest. Sure enough, in the lid was a stout iron ring. "Handle your daughter's fortune," mused he, stroking his chin, "errrr—er—surely your Majesty cannot mean that I, er—lift that chest?" "What else could I mean?" blustered the King, pretending to look greatly surprised.
At this the other Lords of the realm got out their silk pocket-handkerchiefs and began mopping their heads nervously, while the first Lord, taking off his lace jacket, set his jeweled crown carefully on top of it, and stepped up to the chest. Seizing the iron ring he tugged away mightily till his lordly face was a royal turkey-cock purple, but not an inch could he budge it. The King shook his head sadly, "I see very plainly that you are not the man," quoth he. One after another the greedy Lords tried to lift the chest, while the Princess sat by demurely. But puff and pull and tug and strain as they might the chest never stirred.
Imagine how exciting this all was to the Giant, peering in through the window! And as each lord took himself sulkily off, the smile upon the King's broad face grew broader. The truth of the matter was he did not want his daughter to marry at all, and we cannot much blame him for that. Each day she crocheted him a new pair of slippers, and mixed his snuff by a wonderfully secret recipe known only to herself. He had a whole castle turned solely over to the
