He produced a large spool, through which had been run a number of different colored and very narrow ribbons. Mr. Maynard held the spool, with the short ends of the ribbons hanging out toward himself, while the long ends of the ribbons, which reached across the room were apportioned one to each child.
They were allowed to select their own colors, and Marjorie took red, and Molly pink. Kitty had the blue one, and King a yellow one. Mrs. Maynard held a white one, and as Rosamond had gone to bed, no more ribbons were used, though there were others in the spool.
"Now," said Mr. Maynard, "I'll begin to tell a story, make it up as I go along, you know, and then when I stop I'll pull one of these ends. I won't look to see which one I pull, but whoever holds the other end of the same ribbon, must take up the story and go on with it. Do you understand?"
"Yes," said all the children at once; so Mr. Maynard began:
"Once on a time there was a Princess who hadn't any name. The reason for this sad state of affairs was that no one could think of a name good enough for her. She was so beautiful and so lovely and sweet-tempered that every name seemed commonplace, and the King and Queen who were her parents offered a great reward to any one who would suggest a name that seemed appropriate. But, though they proposed every name that was known, and made up a great many more, none seemed to suit, and so the Princess grew up without any name at all. But one day her grandmother gave her a lovely little writing-desk for a birthday present. The Princess was delighted, and immediately she learned to write letters. But, strange to say, she never received any answers to the letters she sent. Days passed, and weeks passed, but nobody answered the letters. She went to the Court Wise Man, and said to him:
"'Prithee, tell me, oh, Seer, why do my friends not answer the letters I have sent them?'
"'Oh, Princess!' said the Court Wise Man, 'it is because you have no name, and, though they have already written letters to you, they know not how to address them. For how can one address a letter to a nameless person?'
"'How, indeed!' cried the Princess. 'But I will have a name. I will choose one for myself.'
"So she sat down, and thought deeply for a long time, and then she jumped up, saying:
"'I have chosen a name! I shall henceforth be called——'"