“And what was that for?” asked Rosebud.
Why, in their own country, the boy said, were robbers and bandits and many fierce men. There was danger always; and their father, as he returned from his day’s hunting, or his day’s labor, would call out, while crossing the little bridge near their cottage, “Tirra, Tirra, Tirra, Tirra La! Tirra, Tirra, Tirra, Tirra La!” to let them know of his safety. And they would answer back the same cry, that he might be sure no harm had come to them in his absence.
“And so,” continued the little boy, “we called, ‘Tirra, Tirra, Tirra, Tirra La!’ while floating along, that our father might hear.”
“But he did not hear!” said the little girl, sadly.
“Now, children,” said Rosebud, “do not be sorrowful any more, for this is Long Forest. The palace of King Brondé is near, and I am his little girl, and I shall help you to find your father. Pray what is his name?” But the children knew only that he was called “Father.” “For all that, we shall find him,” said Rosebud. And every morning, though dressed out in costly array, and her princess’s crown, she took the two children by the hand, and they walked together along the forest paths; and whenever they heard the sound of a wood-chopper’s axe they shouted:—
“Tirra, Tirra, Tirra, Tirra La!” and then stopped awhile to listen, but heard only the echoes, repeating, more and more faintly, “Tirra, Tirra, Tirra, Tirra La! Tirra, Tirra, Tirra, Tirra La!”
And the children grew very sad, and said, “O, we shall never, never again see our father!”
And the two elder princesses said: “Rosebud, why will you keep such low company? You really trouble yourself a great deal about nothing.”
But Rosebud answered, “Is it nothing to lose a father?” And she cheered the two children, and said to them: “Do not give up yet, for I am sure we shall not fail.”
And one bright, calm summer noon, as they were passing a thick grove of oaks, there was heard, far away, the sound of a wood-cutter’s axe.