Of course, you are curious to learn how beautiful the bride appeared. But that’s beyond my power to describe. I can only tell you that she was more lovely than ever she had been before; and that her golden hair was twined with precious rubies, with a rivulet of diamonds on her forehead. Her gown was of silver white brocade; but on it were embroidered, in fine gold, a complete set of pictures of the marvelous history of her heroic husband. The Pumperkin, the adventure with the whale, the meeting with the old villain, the flight from the dungeon, the rescue of each of the four joyless valleys, ... all were depicted there. Everyone wondered, to be sure, how such a handsome work of art could have been made so hastily—but ah, they did not know that, in her long hours of lonely waiting, the little Princess Clem had nearly ruined her dainty fingers with the needle and threads of the loom. For happiness is always born of toiling; and love grows greater for a little patient hardship.
The villainous cousin, now very peaceful, was very proud of a set of false teeth; and munched and munched in hungry bliss upon a plate of his favorite beefsteak. The King, at his end of the table, smiled down upon his feasting friends in joy and perfect bliss. Here was his whole domain reborn into happiness and hard at work and play again. Here was his only daughter wed to the nation’s hero. And—this is what made him smile the broadest—here was a chance to climb down from his royal throne, within a year or two, and place his heavy crown on Peterkin’s own forehead. For, if the truth must be told, the King was growing a little tired of playing King and wearing velvet robes the whole day long; he longed, as old men always do, for the comfort of his big clay pipe, his shirt sleeves and his slippers. And here were a new King and a Queen, all ready made, to rule his land with virtue and with wisdom.
Then, while the banquet was at its jolliest, the bride and bridegroom stole away in a coach that was drawn by six white steeds, and clattered down the festooned streets to the steps of the royal wharf. And there, in the moonlit harbor, the Pumperkin lay waiting. But oh! what a different Pumperkin! For plates of gold were on it now, and a hundred gay flags, and a sail of blue satin. There were sailors to tend it, too, and a great fleet of skiffs to bear it company across the sea.
There was music on the waters and the soft and tender strains played by the royal harpists were caught up by the breezes and carried straight to the Pumperkin. It seemed to sway gently up and down, up and down, as if the waves kept time with the music.
Inside his snug and comfortable boat-house, Peterkin was telling his dear little bride the many wonderful adventures that befell him from the time they had parted in the dungeon to the happy hour of his return. And while they were thus in sweet converse, the Pumperkin was gliding on....
Where was it bound? Haven’t you guessed? Why, for brave Peterkin’s old home, the Pumpkin Patch! That’s where the honeymoon would be—and then.... Then back to the Four Kingdoms, to reign for years in peace and power and glory.
And some day, when you, too, have grown up and have wed a Princess Clem, and have come into a kingdom of your own, you will live—as they lived—happily ever after.
THE END.