ONCE upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had two
beautiful sons and one little daughter, who was so pretty that
no one who saw her could help loving her. When it was time for
the christening of the Princess, the Queen--as she always did--
sent for all the fairies to be present at the ceremony, and afterwards
invited them to a splendid banquet.

When it was over, and they were preparing to go away, the
Queen said to them:

`Do not forget your usual good custom. Tell me what is going
to happen to Rosette.'

For that was the name they had given the Princess.

But the fairies said they had left their book of magic at home,
and they would come another day and tell her.

`Ah!' said the Queen, `I know very well what that means--you
have nothing good to say; but at least I beg that you will not hide
anything from me.'

So, after a great deal of persuasion, they said:

`Madam, we fear that Rosette may be the cause of great
misfortunes to her brothers; they may even meet with their death
through her; that is all we have been able to foresee about your dear
little daughter. We are very sorry to have nothing better to tell you.'

Then they went away, leaving the Queen very sad, so sad that
the King noticed it, and asked her what was the matter.

The Queen said that she had been sitting too near the fire, and
had burnt all the flax that was upon her distaff.

`Oh! is that all?' said the King, and he went up into the
garret and brought her down more flax than she could spin in a
hundred years. But the Queen still looked sad, and the King

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