“Ah! Vasilissa the Wise! how can I help crying? Your father has ordered me to build a crystal bridge in a single night, and I don’t even know how to handle an axe.”
“No matter! lie down and sleep; the morning is wiser than the evening.”
She ordered him to sleep, but she herself went out on the steps, and called aloud with a mighty whistling cry. Then from all sides there ran together carpenters and workmen; one levelled the ground, another carried bricks. Soon had they built a crystal bridge, and traced cunning devices on it; and then they dispersed to their homes.
Early next morning Vasilissa the Wise awoke the Prince:
“Get up, Prince! the bridge is ready: my father will be coming to inspect it directly.”
Up jumped the Prince, seized a broom, took his place on the bridge, and began sweeping here, clearing up there.
The Water King bestowed praise upon him:
“Thanks!” says he. “You’ve done me one service: now do another. Here is your task. Plant me by to-morrow a garden green—a big and shady one; and there must be birds singing in the garden, and flowers blossoming on the trees, and ripe apples and pears hanging from the boughs.”
Away went the Prince from the Water King, all dissolved in tears. Vasilissa the Wise opened her window and asked:
“What are you crying for, Prince?”