The entertaining story of King Brondé, his Lily and his Rosebud

by Abby Morton Diaz

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.
Page
The Three Princesses	[ 9]
CHAPTER II.
King Brondé	[ 20]
CHAPTER III.
The Wood-Cutter’s Children	[ 33]
CHAPTER IV.
The Cave	[ 40]
CHAPTER V.
Meeting of the Fairies	[ 44]
CHAPTER VI.
Going a Hunting, and what came of it	[ 48]
CHAPTER VII.
Escaping from Perils	[ 61]
CHAPTER VIII.
Life at the Sea-shore	[ 70]
CHAPTER IX.
The Flower-Garden	[ 79]
CHAPTER X.
A New Acquaintance	[ 87]
CHAPTER XI.
Meeting and Parting	[ 99]
CHAPTER XII.
The Children in Trouble	[ 107]
CHAPTER XIII.
The White Lamb	[ 114]
CHAPTER XIV.
A Long Journey	[ 118]
CHAPTER XV.
Tears and Smiles	[ 125]
CHAPTER XVI.
A Discovery	[ 132]
CHAPTER XVII.
King Myrtle and Queen Rosebud	[ 141]

THE
ENTERTAINING STORY
OF
KING BRONDÉ,
His Lily and his Rosebud.

THE KING’S
LILY AND ROSEBUD.

CHAPTER I.
THE THREE PRINCESSES.

IF anybody had happened to be walking along what was called the Robbers’ Road, in Long Forest, a part of the possessions of good King Brondé, who lived many, many hundred years ago, he would have perceived that the road was continually curving towards the right. He would also soon have grown weary, for this winding road led, by degrees, to the top of a mountain. But if he had kept on and on, and did not give up for weariness, he would at length have come to the palace of the very king himself. A magnificent palace it was, too, and a sight of it well worth the long journey.

If you could but have seen how the gilded roof shone in the sunlight! and the white marble statues in the gardens! and the fountains and the round ponds filled with gold and silver fishes! and the flocks of lambs with blue and pink ribbons around their necks! and the shepherdesses all dressed in white, each with her crook and her wreath of flowers!—if you could but have seen all these beautiful things, then would the weary journey have been soon forgotten.

And could you have entered the palace itself, and have kept your eyes from being blinded by the bright colors, the sparkling ornaments, and all the splendor of this wonderful place, and have wandered on and on, through the spacious apartments, you would at last have come to an ivory door, over which was perched a red-and-green parrot. This parrot was fed upon flowers made from crystals of white sugar; and had you given him one of these he would have told you a riddle. But this, of course, you could not know. And indeed, when the door was once open, you would have forgotten parrots and everything else in gazing at the beautiful lady within,—the beautiful pale lady, King Brondé’s queen.

This is her private chamber. The windows are lofty, and more than half hidden by rich curtains of crimson. The walls are covered with cloth of crimson and gold. Vases of white lilies fill the air with their fragrance. How beautiful is the pale lady, reclining upon her dark cushions of velvet! Her robe is of blue silk, embroidered with silver. Her fair hair is adorned with a wreath of blue flowers. These flowers are made of precious stones, and the leaves are of silver. Her eyes are blue, too, very blue,—bluer than her silk robe,—bluer than the flowers in her hair. And oh! if her cheeks had but looked rosy then, she would have been the most beautiful queen in the world. But her face was very, very pale; so that when she was not called the Queen, she was often called the Pale Lady, or the White Lady, and sometimes the Lily Queen.

But what are those blue eyes looking upon so earnestly, so tenderly, so sadly?