The Four-Leafed Clover

by Tudor Jenks

The
Four-Leaved
Clover

by Tudor Jenks

All the world knew that the Princess Cyrilla was the rightful heiress to the throne, but no one in all the wide world dared to say so. If any person had been so bold and so foolish, a file of stiff-whiskered soldiers under the command of a captain as straight as flagpole would have come around early the wry next day to take that silly person to prison. For Cyrilla's uncle—or, rather, her half-uncle,—had taken the throne when the late king died, and as he was an able general, much liked by the army, it did not seem probable that little Cyrilla, who was only twelve years old, would ever sit upon the throne with the scepter in her hand and the diamond-pointed crown upon her golden curls.

You will readily understand that Cyrilla's uncle did not like to see her about the palace, and so he would have been glad to shut her up somewhere or to send her out of the kingdom. But he did not quite dare to do either, for fear the people might become angry with him and have revolutions or other unpleasant things. Yet he was only awaiting an excuse for putting the Princess Cyrilla out of sight and out of mind.

One day the princess and her cousin, Prince Boniface, were playing tennis in the palace yard, when the prince batted the ball out of bounds.

"Out!" cried the princess; "that's game and set!"

"It was not out!" said Prince Boniface; "I saw it strike, and it was inside the line."

"You are mistaken, Boniface," said Cyrilla. "for I saw it plainly."

She spoke politely, but firmly, for she knew she was right. Prince Boniface knew she was right, too; but this only made him angrier. In fact, he was so angry that he ran toward her with his racket raised as if to strike her. But just at that moment he tripped on one of the guy-ropes at the end of the tennis-net, and came down with a bump on the hard ground.

Of course, the courtiers came running to see what was the trouble; and then the wicked young prince blamed it all on poor Cyrilla. She had dropped her racket when she started away from him, and he had hit his nose upon it as he fell. So he cried:

"Cyrilla—ow, wow!—it was her racket, and oh, oh—it bruised my no—o—ose! And do you think I will—die—yi—yi?"

And then Cyrilla, knowing that no one would dare to contradict the prince's story, ran away.

When the king heard all this, he was simply delighted. "Aha!" said he to himself, in his wicked old beard, "now I shall be able to get rid of that odious little yellow-haired Cyrilla!"

So he called his councilors together and charged the princess with conspiracy against the peace of the kingdom. "Undoubtedly," the wicked monarch went on, "there will be some who will try to save this young conspirator, my niece Cyrilla, from the consequences of her crime. But I shall know how to deal with such traitors."

The councilors were thoroughly frightened, so, though they pretended to discuss the matter, it was only four and a half minutes by the clock before they voted that the Princess Cyrilla should be forever banished from the kingdom.

This made the king smile; hut he was too sly to go quite so far as that. The Princess Cyrilla was so much beloved by the people that the king knew his own life would not be worth a crooked sixpence if he should send her into exile, so he announced that he would be merciful, and would only order that Cyrilla be sent to the prison tower and should there live upon bread and water.

[Illustration: "CYRILLA, KNOWING THAT NO ONE WOULD DARE CONTRADICT THE PRINCE'S STORY, RAN AWAY."]

When at last they found the princess in the dark corner where she had hidden herself, she was marched off to the prison tower and locked in. At first she was so very much bewildered that she sat perfectly still on the little three-legged stool in the middle of the stone floor. But soon she began to look about her, and finally she noticed what appeared to be a bit of grass caught in her shoe-lace. She stooped and removed it, gently smoothing out the bit of crumpled green, and found that it was a clover; and not only a clover, but a four-leaved clover!

"They say," said the princess, "that a four-leaved clover brings one good luck, but I'm sure I don't remember exactly how the good luck is to come."

So she began to think of all the different fairy-stories which she had read, and then it came to her mind that in nearly every case when a fairy godmother appeared, she was almost sure to grant three wishes.

"It may be," said the princess, thoughtfully, "that one who has a four-leaved clover is entitled to three wishes. It can do no harm to try, at least."

Just then she happened to see the jug of water and the piece of black bread that had been brought her lying upon the rough table.

"I know!" she exclaimed; "I wish that, instead of this bread and water, I could have the very nicest water to drink and the very nicest bread to eat."

And then slowly, under her eyes, the bread seemed to turn a sort of yellowish color. Reaching out her hand, she broke off a piece and tasted it, and found that it was the most delicious gingerbread she had ever eaten. Eagerly she caught up the jug and was overjoyed to find that its contents had become the most delicious ice-cream soda-water!

"Now," said the princess to herself, having satisfied her hunger and thirst, and nodding her head wisely, "I have read enough fairy stories to know how easy it is to waste three wishes. Certainly I shall not wish for a black pudding or any other such ridiculous thing!"

So she sat down upon the little three-legged stool, supporting her chin in her hand, and thought very hard before making the second wish. At length she sprang to her feet, exclaiming, "I know what I wish for!" and raising the four-leaved clover above her head, she said:

"I wish to be queen of the fairies until I shall be queen of my father's kingdom!"

To her surprise, her wish this time seemed to make no change, except that her prison walls apparently moved farther away. Then, happening to glance at the four-leaved clover, which was still in her hand, she saw that it seemed to have grown enormously.

[Illustration: "HE WAS HALTED AS IF HE HAD RUN AGAINST A BRICK WALL."]

Then she understood that, in order to be queen of the fairies, she had become as tiny as a fairy herself. She did not quite know what to do next, but she wisely thought, "I have already had two wishes, and I must be very careful what I do with the last one."

Again she sat herself down to think what ought to be the next wish. This time she took even longer than before and made several deep wrinkles in her forehead, but she finally wished that the fairies should come and help her out of her difficulties.

Immediately she heard, just outside of the window, the fluttering of wings, and between the bars came flying, one after another, a whole army of her little subjects, until the whole band was grouped around her upon the floor of her prison, and a dainty little fellow made her a low, sweeping bow. He dropped upon one knee before her, saying, "What are Your Majesty's commands?"

"I don't quite know," Cyrilla answered shyly.

"May I suggest, then, Your Majesty, that it would be well for you to seek more comfortable quarters—unless you prefer to remain in this prison."

"Not at all," said Cyrilla, rising; "I should like to get out as soon as possible."

As she spoke she raised her hands to her shoulder, for it had occurred to her that now perhaps she, too, had wings and could fly like the rest. She was disappointed to find no sign of them.

The fairy prince smiled and said: "Pardon me, Your Majesty; perhaps, as you have not long been queen, you do not understand that we could not permit the queen of the fairies to put herself to the trouble of flying. Allow me to call your chariot for you."

So saying, the prince spoke to one of the smaller fairies who stood near him, a sort of page, who immediately flew through the window, and seemed no sooner to be gone than he was back again, accompanied by a humming-bird which carried upon its back a dainty little chair.

Cyrilla was delighted, and, taking the prince's arm, was soon seated upon the back of the little bird. Then, accompanied by all the fairies, she flew through the window of the tower and made her way toward the palace.

As they went along, Cyrilla asked the prince, who flew beside her, how she could best regain her throne. After a few moments' thought, he replied: "In the first place, Your Majesty, I should advise you to take this magic wand with you, and then dismiss all your followers except two or three of us, as only a few will be necessary to regain your kingdom."

Cyrilla waved her hand, and at once the troop of fairies dispersed in every direction, leaving only the queen and the fairy prince, a maid of honor and a page.

"Now," said the prince, "as soon as you reach the palace door, you must change back to little Cyrilla, just as you were before you became our queen, being careful, however, to keep firm hold of the little wand. Then, going bravely into the palace,—for so long as you keep the wand in your hand no harm can come to you,—you will find that your wicked uncle and all his followers will not be able to resist your commands. I shall be near you, but I do not think you will need my aid. Remember, that whatever command you choose to give them, they must obey."

[Illustration: "'I THINK,' SAID SHE TO THE KING, "THAT YOU HAD BETTER GO TO COVENTRY."]

"Thank you," said Cyrilla. "I will do as you say."

Just then they arrived at the palace, and as Cyrilla alighted she raised her wand, holding it very firmly, and wished that she might take the form which had been hers before she became the fairy queen. Instantly regaining her former shape, she opened the door of the palace, and walked boldly into the great hall. Cyrilla went forward so bravely and confidently that the soldiers and doorkeepers, the courtiers and pages, saluted her respectfully, and she passed on, unquestioned, into the royal apartments.

Now it happened that the first person she met there was Prince Boniface. No sooner did the boy see her, than he ran threateningly toward her. But Cyrilla still held the diamond-tipped wand, and before he had reached her, she cried, "Stop!"

At once he was halted as if he had run against a brick wall. Cyrilla had not had time to make any plans about what to do with him, so without thinking just what she was saying, she exclaimed, "I wish you were in Jericho!"

And in an instant he was gone—to Jericho, indeed, she afterward learned, where he became a prosperous fig peddler.

Cyrilla was much amazed, but not at all grieved, by the sudden disappearance of Prince Boniface, and she went her way until she reached the council-room, where she expected, and rightly, to find her half-uncle.

He was engaged in making a speech to his councilors when Cyrilla entered, and was saying, "Now that the Princess Cyrilla can no longer be considered—"

Just then Cyrilla appeared at the door, and the wicked uncle said no more, but remained with his mouth open, staring at her stupidly. This time Cyrilla, after her experience with Boniface, knew just what to do, and she wasted no time in making remarks.

"I think," said she to the king, "that you had better go to Coventry; and," she added, as her gaze fell upon the councilors, who were wondering what had become of the king, "that your councilors had better go with you."

And, Presto—they were gone!

Cyrilla, being now left alone in the council-room, called to the little fairy prince; who at once appeared. Then, throwing into the waste basket all the papers upon which the late king and his councilors had been engaged, they took a fresh pad of clean white paper and wrote an address to the people of the kingdom, explaining that the Princess Cyrilla, having chosen to resume the throne, had banished her half-uncle and his son, who would never more be seen in that kingdom. They appointed the next day for the coronation, and, by the aid of the little fairies, made thousands of copies of the proclamation and had them distributed throughout the country before the sun set. The prince and the fairies then returned to Fairy-land; but bright and early the next morning, after Cyrilla had been refreshed by a good night's rest, they all returned, and amid the cheers of her loyal subjects, Cyrilla took her place as queen upon the throne with great dignity and composure. Four pages entered, bearing upon a crimson cushion the diamond-pointed crown, beside which were neatly arranged the sceptre and the coronation ring, set with rubies.

The cheering people then withdrew to spend the rest of the day in merry-making and feasting.

When Cyrilla was arrayed in all this splendor, she suddenly thought of her fairy wand, which she had taken good care to keep in her hand all the morning. To her surprise, she found that it had disappeared, or, rather, that it had changed into the four-leaved clover, which was now a little withered, naturally enough. Then she remembered that her wish was that she might be Fairy Queen only until she had recovered her kingdom, and she knew that she could no longer be one of the fairies. Strangely enough, Cyrilla was not very happy, for she could see that the little fairy prince, who had done so much to help her regain her throne, seemed very sad at the thought of parting from her. She could think of nothing that was in her power to give him which could reward him for all he had done. But although she could not offer him gold or jewels, or even an office in her kingdom such as might suit a mortal, she wished to give him some token of her gratitude, so she held out toward him the withered four-leaved clover.

"Prince," said she, "although I am queen over this great country, and I owe it all to you, I know not how one may reward a fairy. I can only ask that you will keep this four-leaved clover, the beginning of all my good fortune, as a token of my affection and gratitude. It has given me the three wishes which have recovered my kingdom—"

"Three wishes, do you say, Your Majesty?" he interrupted.

"Yes, three wishes," said Cyrilla, wondering.

"Then Your Majesty did not know," said the prince, with sparkling eyes, "that the four-leaved clover gives not three, but four, wishes."

"No," said Cyrilla, "I did not: but I have no further wish, unless—unless—you have a wish to make."

As their eyes met, the prince smiled, and, taking the four-leaved clover from her hand, he said, "I wish that I may be a mortal Prince, and marry Cyrilla, the fairest of queens!"

And so they were married, and lived happy ever after.

[Illustration]