“I am the Fairy Candide,” she said to the prince.  “I promised your father that I would be your best friend, and as long as you live I shall watch over your happiness.  I have brought you a gift; it is not wonderful to look at, but it has a wonderful power for your welfare; wear it, and let it help you.”

As she spoke, she placed a small gold ring on the prince’s little finger.  “This ring,” she said, “will help you to be good; when you do evil, it will prick you, to remind you.  If you do not heed its warnings a worse thing will happen to you, for I shall become your enemy.”  Then she vanished.

Prince Cherry wore his ring, and said nothing to anyone of the fairy’s gift.  It did not prick him for a long time, because he was good and merry and happy.  But Prince Cherry had been rather spoiled by his nurse when he was a child; she had always said to him that when he should become king he could do exactly as he pleased.  Now, after a while, he began to find out that this was not true, and it made him angry.

The first time that he noticed that even a king could not always have his own way was on a day when he went hunting.  It happened that he got no game.  This put him in such a bad temper that he grumbled and scolded all the way home.  The little gold ring began to feel tight and uncomfortable.  When he reached the palace his pet dog ran to meet him.

“Go away!” said the prince, crossly.

But the little dog was so used to being petted that he only jumped up on his master, and tried to kiss his hand.  The prince turned and kicked the little creature.  At the instant, he felt a sharp prick in his little finger, like a pin prick.

“What nonsense!” said the prince to himself.  “Am I not king of the whole land?  May I not kick my own dog, if I choose?  What evil is there in that?”

A silver voice spoke in his ear:  “The king of the land has a right to do good, but not evil; you have been guilty of bad temper and of cruelty to-day; see that you do better to-morrow.”

The prince turned sharply, but no one was to be seen; yet he recognised the voice as that of Fairy Candide.

He followed her advice for a little, but presently he forgot, and the ring pricked him so sharply that his finger had a drop of blood on it.  This happened again and again, for the prince grew more self-willed and headstrong every day; he had some bad friends, too, who urged him on, in the hope that he would ruin himself and give them a chance to seize the throne.  He treated his people carelessly and his servants cruelly, and everything he wanted he felt that he must have.

The ring annoyed him terribly; it was embarrassing for a king to have a drop of blood on his finger all the time!  At last he took the ring off and put it out of sight.  Then he thought he should be perfectly happy, having his own way; but instead, he grew more unhappy as he grew less good.  Whenever he was crossed, or could not have his own way instantly, he flew into a passion.