"Yes, your majesty, indeed I am," he replied.
"Want any more melons, Jim?" said she, laughing.
"No, no, no!" groaned Jim. "No more!"
"How is your mother, Jim?" asked her majesty.
"Alas! I don't know,"—and he hung his head in shame.
"Are you ready to go and see her, Jim?" she asked, gently. "And will you be contented now?"
"Yes, yes!" was his eager reply.
Now, the old king had been mending shoes all day, and was at this moment resting in the cottage porch, when, suddenly, he was whisked away on a cloud and landed in his palace again. His crown was popped on his head, and the scepter thrust in his hand, while his old chamberlain tenderly tucked him up in bed.
At the same instant, another cloud brought back Nimble Jim to his bench and his faithful mother, who at once made him some oat-meal porridge without a murmur or word of reproach.
"There!" said the elfin queen to herself. "That boy is cured of his silly notions."