“Smear the trees with bird-lime,” ordered the prince, “and if you catch the bird, bring it to me.”
The gardener used the bird-lime, and the next day caught the bird. Then he put it in a cage, and carried it to the prince. The black damsel was with the prince, and as soon as she saw the bird she knew it was the orange fairy. Later in the day she pretended to be very ill, and she declared that she would never get well unless she could have such a bird as was in the gardener’s cage to eat. The prince said she might do as she pleased with the caged bird. So she directed that it should be killed and cooked and brought to her, and that the feathers and whatever she did not eat should be burned.
All was done as she wished, except that one feather slipped unnoticed into a crack in the kitchen hearth. After the black damsel had eaten the flesh of the bird, she arose from her bed completely recovered from her illness.
A certain old woman who had a cottage in the vicinity sometimes came to the palace kitchen to see a daughter who worked there. One day she noticed a bright feather in a crack of the hearth. She poked it out with her knitting-needle, and carried it home and put it on a rafter. The next time she went to the palace, the bird’s feather leaped down from the rafter, shivered a little, and then turned into a lovely damsel. This damsel tidied the room, cooked dinner and set it on the table, and afterward became a feather and leaped back to the rafter. When the old woman came home she was greatly astonished at what she saw, and she searched the house backward and forward to see if she could discover the person who had been helping her, but no one could she find.
It was the same the next time she went to the palace—the feather became a damsel and did all the household work. “I really must find out the secret of this,” thought the old woman when she returned.
So the following morning she went out as if she were going away, but left the door ajar and hid where she could peep through a crack. Soon she perceived there was a damsel in the room putting things in order and cooking the dinner. Then in she dashed and seized hold of her. “Who are you?” she demanded, “and whence do you come?”
The damsel told her sad story, and the old woman said: “Distress yourself no more, my lass. I’ll put your affairs to rights this very day.”
Then off she went to the palace and invited the prince to call on her that evening. He was now so tired of the black damsel that he was glad of any excuse to get away from her, and the evening found him punctually at the old woman’s. They sat down to supper, and presently the damsel brought in the coffee. When the sultan’s son saw her he nearly fainted. As soon as he recovered himself a little, and the maiden had left the room, he turned to the old woman and asked, “Who is that damsel?”
“She is the orange fairy,” replied the old woman.
“I thought she could be no other!” he exclaimed, and he rose from the table and ran to where the damsel was and took her in his arms.