Ting-a-ling | Page 4

yellow boots sticking out, the old fellow muttered:
"Gone to bed with his clothes on, eh? Well, I'll let him sleep!" And so,
putting down the pitcher and the towels, he walked out again. But not

alone, for the Prince silently stepped after him, and by keeping close
behind him, followed without being heard,--his politeness having been
the fortunate cause of his being in his stocking-feet. For some distance
they walked together thus, the Prince intending to slip off at the first
cross passage he came to. It was quite dusky in the long hall way, there
being no windows; and when the guard, at a certain place, made a very
wide step, taking hold of a rod by the side of the wall as he did so, the
Prince, not perceiving this, walked straight on, and popped right down
an open trap-door.
Nerralina not returning, the Princess was in great grief, not knowing at
first whether she had eloped with the Prince, or had met with some
misfortune on the way to his room. In the morning, however, the ladies
ascertained that the rope was not hanging from the Prince's window,
and as the guards reported that he was comfortably sleeping in his bed,
it was unanimously concluded that Nerralina had been discovered in
her attempt, and had come to grief. Sorrowing bitterly, somewhat for
the unknown mishap of her maid of honor, but still more for the now
certain fate of him she loved, Aufalia went into the garden, and, making
her way through masses of rose-trees and jasmines, to the most
secluded part of the grounds, threw herself upon a violet bank and wept
unrestrainedly, the tears rolling one by one from her eyes, like a
continuous string of pearls.
Now it so happened that this spot was the pleasure ground of a
company of fairies, who had a colony near by. These fairies were about
an inch and a half high, beautifully formed, and of the most respectable
class. They had not been molested for years by any one coming to this
spot; but as they knew perfectly well who the Princess was, they were
not at all alarmed at her appearance. In fact, the sight of her tears
rolling so prettily down into the violet cups, and over the green leaves,
seemed to please them much, and many of the younger ones took up a
tear or two upon their shoulders to take home with them.
There was one youth, the handsomest of them all, named Ting-a-ling,
who had a beautiful little sweetheart called Ling-a-ting.
Each one of these lovers, when they were about to return to their homes,

picked up the prettiest tear they could find. Ting-a-ling put his tear
upon his shoulder, and walked along as gracefully as an Egyptian
woman with her water-jug; while little Ling-a-ting, with her treasure
borne lightly over her head, skipped by her lover's side, as happy as
happy could be.
"Don't walk out in the sun, my dearest," said Ting-a-ling. "Your
shin-shiney will burst."
"Burst! O no, Tingy darling, no it won't. See how nice and big it is
getting, and so light! Look!" cried she, throwing back her head; "I can
see the sky through it; and O! what pretty colors,--blue, green, pink,
and"--And the tear burst, and poor little Ling-a-ting sunk down on the
grass, drenched and drowned.
Horror-stricken, Ting-a-ling dropped his tear and wept. Clasping his
hands above his head, he fell on his knees beside his dear one, and
raised his eyes to the blue sky in bitter anguish. But when he cast them
down again, little Ling-a-ting was all soaked into the grass. Then
sterner feelings filled his breast, and revenge stirred up the depths of his
soul.
"This thing shall end!" he said, hissing the words between his teeth.
"No more of us shall die like Ling-a-ting!"
So he ran quickly, and with his little sword cut down two violets, and
of the petals he made two little soft bundles, and, tying them together
with his garters, he slung them over his shoulder. Full of his terrible
purpose, he then ran to the Princess, and, going behind her, clambered
up her dress until he stood on her shoulder, and, getting on the top of
her head, he loosened a long hair, and lowered himself down with it,
until he stood upon the under lashes of her left eye. Now, his intention
was evident. Those violet bundles were to "end this thing." They were
to be crammed into the source of those fatal tears, to the beauty of
which poor Ling-a-ting had fallen a victim.
"Now we shall see," said he, "if some things cannot be done as well as
others!" and, kneeling down, he took one bundle from his shoulder, and

prepared to put