"I don't suppose yer know any fairy stories right now, do yer?"
"Let me see," said the Interpreter, seeming to think very hard. "Why, yes, I believe I do know one. It starts out like this: Once upon a time there was a most beautiful princess, just like your princess lady, who lived in a most wonderful palace. Isn't that the way for a fairy story to begin?"
"Uh-huh, that's the way. An' then what happened?"
With a great show of indifference the boy drew near and stretched himself on the floor on the other side of the old basket maker's chair.
"Well, this beautiful princess in the story, perhaps because she was so beautiful herself, loved more than anything else in all the world to have lots and lots of jewels. You know what jewels are, don't you?"
"Uh-huh, the princess lady she has 'em—heaps of 'em. I seen her onct close, when she was a-gettin' into her autermobile, in front of one of them big stores."
"Well," continued the story-teller, "it was strange, but with all her diamonds and pearls and rubies and things there was one jewel that the princess did not have. And, of course, she wanted that one particular gem more than all the others. That is the way it almost always is, you know."
"Huh," grunted Bobby.
"What was that there jewel she wanted?" asked Maggie.
"It was called the jewel of happiness," answered the Interpreter, "because whoever possessed it was sure to be always as happy as happy could be. And so, you see, because she did not have that particular jewel the princess did not have as good times as such a beautiful princess, living in such a wonderful palace, with so many lovely things, really ought to have.