"I'll never forget him. Never!" said 'Zekiel to himself, "and I wouldn't tell upon him not if anyone was to worrit me ever so!"—and indeed he never did.
Years passed, and Dame Fossie's shop was shut, and Dame Fossie herself was laid to rest. Her daughter inherited most of her possessions; but—"to my young friend 'Zekiel Pyetangle, I will and bequeath my china dog, hoping as he'll be a kind friend to it," stood at the end of the sheet of paper which did duty as her will. And so 'Zekiel became the owner of the Fozzy-gog after all!
Granny Pyetangle has long since passed away, but the little thatched cottage is still there, with the garden full of lavender bushes and sweet-smelling flowers. From the glass door of the corner cupboard the Fozzy-gog and his companion look out upon the world with the same inscrutable expression; and 'Zekiel himself, old and decrepit, but still cheerful, may at this moment be sitting in the cottage porch, watching his little grandchildren play about the cobblestone pathway, or talking over old times with Eli and Hercules Colfox, who, hobbling in for a chat, take a pull at their long pipes, and bemoan the inferiority of everything that does not belong to the time when "us were all lads together."
Princess Sidigunda's Golden Shoes.
Princess Sidigunda lived with her parents in a beautiful old castle by the sea. It was so near that the royal gardens sloped down gradually to the shore, and from its battlements—where the little Princess was allowed to walk sometimes on half-holidays—she could watch the ships with their gaily-painted prows and golden dragons' heads, sweeping over the water in quest of new lands and fresh adventures.
Princess Sidigunda was an only child, and at her christening every gift you can imagine had been showered upon her.
The Trolls of the Woods gave her beauty; the Trolls of the Water, a free, bright spirit; the Mountain-Trolls, good health; and last, but not least, her chief Godfather, the Troll of the Seashore, had given her a beautiful little pair of golden slippers.