'Yes,' said the King, who saw at once what she meant. 'Of course, I shall do that first thing.'
And next morning all the newspapers contained an advertisement:
'Wanted, competent Prince to undo magic and restore Princesses to their right size. None but eldest sons need apply. The usual reward offered. Apply at the palace.'
'I think that's a mistake, daddy,' said the Princess; 'in the fairy stories it's always the youngest son who makes everything come right. And people don't know their fairy history nowadays; they mayn't know what the reward is.'
So the next day the advertisement was changed to:
'Any sons of respectable monarchs may apply. The successful candidate will receive the Princess's hand in marriage.'
'It's all very well to put that in,' said the Princess to herself, 'but if I don't like him I shan't marry him. I'll give him all my jewels instead.'
But all the Kings' sons in the world had forgotten their magic, if they ever knew any, and not one single Prince applied at the palace.
So the Princess had to do the only possible thing—make the best of it. And she did it bravely.