Jim sold a few of the stones, and with the proceeds purchased magnificent garments for Dimple and himself;
then, hiring a train of servants to attend them, the two travellers returned to their own village, seated upon cushions of pale blue velvet in a crystal chariot drawn by six milk-white horses, with gold and silver harness.
At the approach of this splendid procession, all the people of the neighborhood came flocking from their houses to see the grand prince and princess, who had done them so much honor. To their astonishment, the chariot stopped directly in front of the miller's cottage, and out sprang the beautiful princess, trailing her silks and satins along the garden path, and, with a scream of delight, throwing her fair arms around the poor old dusty miller, who sat mournfully upon his deserted door-stone, rapt in thought. In a voice that all recognized, Dimple cried:
"Father, don't you know me? I am your loving child."
Next to be astonished was Jim's mother, a lone widow, who sat at her spinning-wheel as usual, thinking of the boy she had lost so many months before. When Jim appeared before her in all his bravery, the poor old thing nearly went into hysterics of delight—she had not hesitated for one moment in recognizing the face that had never left her thoughts.
Directly afterward, all the villagers were requested to proceed in a body to the church, where a splendid wedding was held. Everyone agreed that Dimple made the prettiest bride that had ever stepped from the old church porch, and no one could dispute the fact that Jim was the proudest of bridegrooms.
The newly married pair built a superb palace in a park near their native village, and also two smaller palaces for Jim's mother and Dimple's father. A large share of their wealth was spent in beautifying the homes of their friends; and, in time, the hamlet came to be known as the "Happy Valley," so prosperous and fertile had it grown. No sickness came near these fortunate villagers; and none of them ever died—thanks to the free use made by Dimple of her inexhaustible ointment.
At last reports, neither Jim nor Dimple had confided to anyone the true story of their life in the giant's castle. When people expressed curiosity as to the source of such wonderful wealth, Jim always roguishly said that Dimple had made it all by good cooking. This report, getting abroad, had the effect of inducing the girls of that country, far and wide, to go into their kitchens and learn all they could of the most useful of arts; which, perhaps, had as much as Dimple's magic salve to do with the health and contentment of the inhabitants of Happy Valley!