THE PRINCE AND THE CRUMBS OF DOUGH
Once upon a time, so an old story says, a certain king was anxious that his son, the prince, should marry the most thrifty maiden to be found in his kingdom.
So he invited to the palace on a certain date all the young women of the country, for that was the custom when a new princess was to be chosen.
On every side were arranged long tables, at which each girl was given a place.
Upon the tables were the materials and bowls and pans needed in making bread. In the center of the room on a small platform sat the king and queen, the prince, and several courtiers.
When they had all taken their places, the king announced that there would be a contest in bread-mixing; and that a handsome prize would be given to the young woman who, in the judgment of the king and queen, made bread in the best way.
You can imagine how excited all the young women were, and how each one set about her task trembling with nervousness, yet in her secret heart hoping to win the prize.
You can imagine, too, how difficult it was to act as judge; for the king and queen knew there must be several young women there who could make bread equally well.
Every once in a while, the king whispered to the queen, and the queen smiled and shook her head doubtfully, as if to say, “We shall have a hard task to judge with fairness.”
In one corner of the room, working very quietly, was a very pretty young girl. She was so far away from the king and queen, who were a little near-sighted, that they had not observed her as carefully as they had some of the others. But when the prince leaned forward and spoke to them, they raised their hand glasses and turned their eyes in her direction, to watch her every motion.
“We will examine the loaves as soon as they are placed in the pans,” announced the king presently; and soon he led the queen and the prince around the tables.
They came last to the place where the fair young girl was standing. The king and queen looked not only at the beautiful white loaves in the pans, but at the empty bowl in which the dough had been mixed. They looked at each other, and nodded and smiled; then at the prince, and nodded and smiled.
“What is your name, my dear?” asked the king, turning toward the table once more.
“Hildegarde,” replied the maiden, blushing with shyness.
“Come with us,” said the king and the queen leading the way; and the prince bowed low before her.
“May I escort you, Miss Hildegarde?” he asked, offering his arm, on which she hesitated to place her hand, fearing lest the flour might mark his velvet coat.
Upon this, the prince drew her hand through his arm, and they followed the king and queen.
When they reached the platform, the king took Hildegarde’s hand in his.
“We, the king and queen, judge that this young lady has won the prize because she has made bread in the best way,” he announced. “All of you have made beautiful loaves; but Hildegarde is the only one who has scraped all the dough from the bowl and paddle, wasting nothing. Let the prince present the prize. Kneel, Hildegarde.”
As the maiden knelt on the cushion at the feet of the king and queen, the prince came forward and placed a sparkling diamond ring on her finger, and raised her to her feet.
“Will you accept it as a betrothal ring, and become my princess?” he whispered; and Hildegarde answered, “Yes.”
“The prince goes with the prize,” said the king; “for he wants to have for his princess the most thrifty maiden in the land.”
All the young women were invited to the wedding of the prince and Hildegarde, and each received as a souvenir a beautiful little gold purse in the form of a loaf of bread.
QUESTIONS
Did the king and queen and prince need the crumbs of dough?
Then why do you think Hildegarde was chosen?
Why does it pay to save little things?
Do you know that the gold dust in the sweepings at the mint amounts to many dollars in a year?
Can you think of something you could save at your house?
We shape ourselves the joy or fear
Of which the coming life is made;
And fill our future atmosphere
With sunshine or with shade.
—Whittier.