"It is your fault, not mine," answered the King boldly; "you shouldn't have thrown dust in my eyes if you wanted me to see Wympland in the right light!"
The wymp turned several somersaults to show his amazement at the King's words, and finally stood thoughtfully on one leg.
"That's serious," he said. "We didn't know you'd ever come up here, or we shouldn't have done it. However, it can't be helped now, so you'd better go back again. It doesn't matter if you do see things wrong—at the front of the sun."
"But it does matter!" they both exclaimed; "and that's why we want you to take away the spell, please."
The wymp stood on his head again and shook it from side to side, which no one but a wymp could have done, considering the awkwardness of the position. "There's only one thing to be done," he said at last. "You must exchange eyes."
They stared at the wymp and then at each other. The little King began to think busily, but Eyebright spoke without thinking at all.
"Very well," she said. "How is it to be done?"
"Quite easy," answered the wymp, cheerfully. "All you've got to do is to wish with all your might to have the King's eyes instead of your own, and there you are!"
At that moment the King finished his thinking. "Stop!" he shouted. "If I take her eyes away, she will always see things wrong!"