“That will please her,” thought he.
Just then he heard her coming. The door opened and she came in. She had her apron to her eyes and was crying as if her heart would break.
“Why, what is the matter my dear child?” asked the king.
“Oh, my beautiful roses! They are all ugly and yellow,” cried she. “When I try to smell them, their hard petals prick my nose.”
“Well, dear, don’t cry about it. Sit down and eat your bread and milk.”
They both sat down to the table. He thought she would forget about the roses, when she saw her golden bowl; but she was too sad to notice it. Perhaps it was best that she did not, for she had always been so fond of looking at the pictures upon it. These faded as soon as the bowl was changed to gold.
His walk in the garden had given the king a good appetite. His breakfast of baked potatoes, fish, hot cakes and coffee looked very good indeed.
“Well, this is nice,” he said, as he poured out a cup of coffee. He smiled when he saw the coffee pot turn to gold.
“I shall soon have nothing but gold on my table,” thought he, and began to wonder where he could keep his treasure.
He raised the cup of coffee to his lips. That, too, turned to gold. Of course he could not drink it. He set the cup down quickly. Marygold looked up and asked,