"He's right," said Walpurga, "he tries to catch the light already, but I think your eyes have grown larger than they used to be."
Irma went with Walpurga and excused herself for not having visited the cottage by the lake. She then told her of her friend in the convent.
"And how's your father?" asked Walpurga.
Irma was startled. The queen had not even inquired about her father. Walpurga was the only one who had asked about him.
She told her that he knew her mother, and also her uncle, who often burnt pitch in the forest.
"Yes, he's my mother's brother; so you know him, too?"
"I don't, but my father does."
Walpurga told her about her uncle Peter, who was known as the "little pitchman," and vowed that she would send him something, one of these days, for the poor old fellow had a hard time of it in this world. Old Zenza had had the courage to come to the palace, but the little pitchman would starve to death before he would do such a thing.
While Walpurga was speaking, the queen went to the cradle, and when the prince saw her, he struggled, with hands and feet, as if trying to get to her. She bent down and raised him up, and Walpurga exclaimed:
"Dear me! on the very day our countess returns, our prince sits up for the first time. Yes, she can make everything go right."