‘Mother, mother, she gave us a ride! She was a nice lady! I got my wish!’ clamored the children, together.
But their mother rebuked them. ‘Don’t you know that that was the Queen?’ she said, ‘and you so dirty and bold!’
‘The Queen!’ they stammered. ‘But she wore a handkerchief over her head!’
‘And is that all you noticed? Would it make a queen of me to put on a crown?’
‘I told her I was named for a princess,’ said Ileana, ‘and all the time it was her own little girl, and she knew it!’ Then, catching a glimpse of the baby, ‘Oh, mother,’ she cried, ‘look at him!’ He stood between the doorstep and the rainwater tub, balancing himself on his little bare feet. Then he took a step forward, swerved, dipped, righted himself, took two steps more and clutched the edge of the tub triumphantly. His mother, forgetting the Queen, ran to catch him up and kiss him.
‘You see,’ said Ileana, wisely nodding at Stefano, ‘the fairy ring did work. If only Branko had wished, too, he might have his house!’
‘You and Stefano wished for small things,’ said their mother, ‘but for the big things of life you must work as well as wish. It is through work that Branko will find his home.’
GREAT AMBER ROAD
The village ended where the forest began. Two great pine trees stood out like gate-posts, and between them the road ran into the depths of the wood. Along the road one summer morning came a herd of cows led by a small dog and followed by a boy in a white shirt embroidered in orange and black. He wore a round cap with a falcon’s feather stuck through the band, and under his arm he carried a violin. This was Jaroslav, the village cowherd, who every day, with the help of Flick, the dog, gathered the cows of the village, led them to pasture, and brought them back at milking-time. Presently dog, boy and cows passed between the great pines and disappeared into the shadow beyond, as if into an enchanted forest; but if you had waited half an hour you would have seen them emerge, high upon the mountain-side, into a clearing of smooth, green fields.
Here a spring ran into a grassy hollow and filled it with pools of cool water where the cows liked to stand on hot afternoons. From his perch on the hillside, Jaroslav could look over the tops of the pines, far down upon the roof of his own home. It was almost the last house in the village, made of stone covered with plaster, and painted by his mother in gay wreaths and patterns. The roof was of rough thatch on which grew patches of moss and pink flowers, which danced in the wind. The two white spots like flecks of silver were pigeons, cooing and spreading their coral feet on the moss.