"Stupid!" cried the second little creature, when she did not speak. Then off he flew as suddenly as he had appeared, and out from Little Sweep's pocket crawled the first Red Cap.
"Ugh!" exclaimed Red Cap, brushing his tiny beard and dusting his green satin suit. "How comes it that your pocket is so very dusty?"
"I must keep ashes in it for my trade of sweeping crossings," replied Little Sweep. "I hate it."
"Then perhaps I might find you a better trade," said Red Cap, gazing thoughtfully at Little Sweep's gray grimy face and raggedy garments. "We Red Caps, although we be very little folk, be very powerful folk, you know."
"Yes, I have heard that you grant wishes to poor folk sometimes," replied Little Sweep; "is that true?"
"It is," said Red Cap, nodding gravely. "Make three wishes now, and I will grant them for you."
Now fairy lore is filled with tales of folk who had three wishes given them, and, as you have perhaps remarked, these folk have often wished too hastily and consequently wished unwisely. The old woman who wished for black puddings is one, and the man who wished his mill to always grind salt is another. And there are scores and scores of these unwise folk that I could name. But Little Sweep was not like one of these. She leaned upon her broom and paused some time in deepest thought. At last she spoke.
"First," said she, "I wish to be a beautiful princess, dressed in robes of satin sewn with gold, my face all clean and shining, and on my head a coronet of pearls."
"Second, I wish to dwell within a splendid castle by the sea and have a hundred rooms all filled full of gold and treasures, and a thousand slaves to do my bidding.
"Third, I wish my old master to sweep crossings in my place. That is all."