TING-A-LING.


In a far country of the East, in a palace surrounded by orange groves,
where the nightingales sang, and by silvery lakes, where the soft
fountains plashed, there lived a fine old king. For many years he had
governed with great comfort to himself, and to the tolerable
satisfaction of his subjects. His queen being dead, his whole affection
was given to his only child, the Princess Aufalia; and, whenever he
happened to think of it, he paid great attention to her education. She
had the best masters of embroidery and in the language of flowers, and
she took lessons on the zithar three times a week.

A suitable husband, the son of a neighboring monarch, had been selected
for her when she was about two hours old, thus making it unnecessary for
her to go into society, and she consequently passed her youthful days in
almost entire seclusion. She was now, when our story begins, a woman
more beautiful than the roses of the garden, more musical than the
nightingales, and far more graceful than the plashing fountains.

One balmy day in spring, when the birds were singing lively songs on the
trees, and the crocuses were coaxing the jonquils almost off their very
stems with their pretty ways, Aufalia went out to take a little
promenade, followed by two grim slaves. Closely veiled, she walked in
the secluded suburbs of the town, where she was generally required to
take her lonely exercise. To-day, however, the slaves, impelled by a
sweet tooth, which each of them possessed, thought it would be no harm
if they went a little out of their way to procure some sugared
cream-beans, which were made excellently well by a confectioner near the
outskirts of the city. While they were in the shop, bargaining for the
sugar-beans, a young man who was passing thereby stepped up to the
Princess, and asked her if she could tell him the shortest road to the
baths, and if there was a good eating-house in the neighborhood. Now as
this was the first time in her life that the Princess had been addressed
by a young man, it is not surprising that she was too much astonished to
speak, especially as this youth was well dressed, extremely handsome,
and of proud and dignified manners,--although, to be sure, a little
travel-stained and tired-looking.