But as for Despard, she had no hope that he would ever look well in any thing. She would part Goldilocks’ wonderful hair, and say,—
“Old Sibyl knows who is her love; she knows who would be glad to give her pomegranates and grapes, when she is too old to spin, and too weak to sit up.”
Little Goldilocks would laughingly reply,—
“And I know, too: when I am a woman I shall weave a net of my hair, and fish up all the gold that has sunk to the beds of the rivers. Then I know who will have a set of hard gold teeth, and a silver rocking-chair.”
“Thou art lovely enough to be a goddess, little Goldilocks. And what wilt thou do with the rest of the gold?”
“Oh, Despard shall have all he can carry; for Despard is good, let people say what they may. And I will have a crown made for him, with diamonds set in it as plenty as plums in a pudding.”
“Listen, my children,” said the old Sibyl, sadly: “there will be no one to give me grapes and pomegranates when I am faint and weak. I can read by the stars that you are soon to go on a pilgrimage, and leave your old nurse behind. You may well weep, my good little boy: there is to be no rest for your feet till you have travelled over the whole world, from north to south.”
Despard groaned aloud; but Goldilocks clapped her hands and laughed. “Oh, let us start to-night,” she cried.
“When the sun-god has made twelve journeys in his winged boat,” sighed Sibyl, “and when the young moon has arisen out of the ocean, then you may go.”
And, at the appointed time, the faithful nurse, with many tears, prepared her foster-children for their long journey. She took from a worm-eaten coffer some family heirlooms, which had been lying since the days of the Golden Age, enveloped in rose-leaves and gold paper.