The Wonder Clock; or, four & twenty marvellous Tales / being one for each hour of the day

by Howard Pyle; Katharine Pyle

There was a princess who was as pretty as a picture, and she was so proud of that that she would not so much as look at a body; all the same, there was no lack of lads who came a-wooing, and who would have liked nothing so much as to have had her for a sweetheart because she was so good-looking. But, no, she would have nothing to do with any of them; this one was too young and that one was too old; this one was too lean and that one was too fat; this one was too little and that one was too big; this one was too dark and that one was too fair. So there was never a white sheep in the whole flock, as one might say.

Now there was one came who was a king in his own country, and a fine one at that. The only blemish about him was a mole on his chin; apart from that he was as fresh as milk and rose leaves.

But when the princess saw him she burst out laughing; “Who would choose a specked apple from the basket?” said she; and that was all the cake the prince bought at that shop, for off he was packed.

But he was not for giving up, not he; he went and dressed himself up in rags and tatters; then back he came again, and not a soul knew him.

Rap! tap! rap!—he knocked at the door, and did they want a stout lad about the place?

Well, yes; they were wanting a gooseherd, and if he liked the place he might have it.

Oh, that fitted his wants like a silk stocking, and the next day he drove the geese up on the hill back of the king’s house, so that they might eat grass where it was fresh and green. By and by he took a golden ball out of his pocket and began tossing it up and catching it, and as he played with it the sun shone on it so that it dazzled one’s eyes to look at it.

The princess sat at her window, and it was not long before she saw it, I can tell you. Dear, dear, but it was a pretty one, the golden ball. The princess would like to have such a plaything, that she would; so she sent one of the maids out to ask whether the gooseherd had a mind to sell it.

Oh, yes, it was for sale, and cheap at that; the princess should have it for the kerchief which she wore about her neck.

Prut! but the lad was a saucy one; that was what the princess said. But, after all, a kerchief was only a kerchief; fetch the gooseherd over and she would give it to him, for she wanted the pretty golden ball for her own, and she would have it if it were to be had.