"He is the bravest man in the world," said Sabrinetta. "He has saved the country and the little children; but, oh, his hands—his poor, dear, darling hands!"
Here the door of the room opened, and the oldest of the five and seventy pigs came in. It went up to Elfin and rubbed itself against him with little loving grunts.
"See the dear creature," said the nurse, wiping away a tear. "It knows, it knows!"
Sabrinetta stroked the pig, because Elfin had no hands for stroking or for anything else.
"The only cure for a dragon burn," said the old nurse, "is pig's fat, and well that faithful creature knows it——"
"I wouldn't for a kingdom," cried Elfin, stroking the pig as best he could with his elbow.
"Is there no other cure?" asked the Princess.
Here another pig put its black nose in at the door, and then another and another, till the room was full of pigs, a surging mass of rounded blackness, pushing and struggling to get at Elfin, and grunting softly in the language of true affection.
"There is one other," said the nurse. "The dear, affectionate beasts—they all want to die for you."
"What is the other cure?" said Sabrinetta anxiously.