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In a moment the beautiful fairy was standing before him.

“Do you still think that gold is the greatest thing in the world?” asked the fairy.

“No! no!” cried the king.  “I hate the very sight of the yellow stuff.”

“Are you sure that you no longer wish the golden touch?” asked the fairy.

“I have learned my lesson,” said the king.  “I no longer think gold the greatest thing in the world.”

“Very well,” said the fairy, “take this pitcher to the spring in the garden and fill it with water.  Then sprinkle those things which you have touched and turned to gold.”

The king took the pitcher and rushed to the spring.  Running back, he first sprinkled the head of his dear little girl.  Instantly she became his own darling Marigold again, and gave him a kiss.

The king sprinkled the golden food, and to his great joy it turned back to real bread and real butter.

Then he and his little daughter sat down to breakfast.  How good the cold water tasted.  How eagerly the hungry king ate the bread and butter, the meat, and all the good food.

The king hated his golden touch so much that he sprinkled even the chairs and the tables and everything else that the fairy’s gift had turned to gold.

Greek Myth

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    OVER IN THE MEADOW

    Over in the meadow,
      In the sand, in the sun,
    Lived an old mother toad
      And her little toadie one. 
    “Wink!” said the mother;
      “I wink,” said the one;
    So she winked and she blinked
      In the sand, in the sun.

    Over in the meadow,
      Where the stream runs blue,
    Lived an old mother fish
      And her little fishes two. 
    “Swim!” said the mother;
      “We swim,” said the two;
    So they swam and they leaped
      Where the stream runs blue.

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    Over in the meadow,
      In a hole in a tree,
    Lived a mother bluebird
      And her little birdies three. 
    “Sing!” said the mother;
      “We sing,” said the three;
    So they sang and were glad
      In the hole in the tree.

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    Over in the meadow,
      In a snug beehive,
    Lived a mother honeybee
      And her little honeys five. 
    “Buzz!” said the mother;
      “We buzz,” said the five;
    So they buzzed and they hummed
      In the snug beehive.

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    Over in the meadow,
      Where the clear pools shine,
    Lived a green mother frog,
      And her little froggies nine. 
    “Croak!” said the mother;
      “We croak,” said the nine;
    So they croaked and they splashed
      Where the clear pools shine.

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