“Parents of Everychild, appear!” she cried.

They came, subdued, saddened, hand in hand.  And Truth addressed them.

“Parents of Everychild,” she said, “I need not tell you now why Everychild is lost to those who should be nearest to him.  You have learned that coldness and neglect toward those who have a right to look to you for love and good will is the one sin for which punishment is most inevitable.  But so long as the world stands Everychild shall not forget his father and mother; and at last he comes to take you into his heart to cherish you for ever and ever.  Will you—­but ah, I need not ask!  I know that at last the parents of Everychild, tried by suffering and time, love him better—­oh, far better—­than they love themselves.”

To which the parents of Everychild cried out, “We do—­we do, indeed!”

Then Everychild gave his hand to the Sleeping Beauty, who seemed a bit overawed by all that was transpiring, and led her toward his parents.  They stood with outstretched hands.  And immediately they passed with the utmost happiness behind their curtain.

They had all disappeared now—­yet no, Aladdin and Will o’Dreams remained.

Aladdin had been sitting apart, watching everything that took place.  He had kept quite out of the way.  Now he arose leisurely and moved toward those hangings through which Prince Arthur had disappeared.  He meant to join Prince Arthur!

But just before he disappeared he turned about.  A blissful smile was on his lips.  He held his hands high.

His lamp was gone!

He passed from sight.  He could be heard singing dreamily,
“Tla-la-la . . . tla-la-la . . .”  His voice died away.

Now Truth remained all alone save that her son, Will o’Dreams, remained gazing at her happily.

But suddenly she perceived an intruder near her.  For the last time, Mr. Literal was there beside her.  He was smiling smugly and tetering back and forth on his feet.  “You seem very well satisfied with yourself,” he said with a sneer.

She only turned toward him serenely.

“Yet all the same,” continued Mr. Literal, “the story is full of meaningless things and inconsistencies.”

“Do you think so?” she returned.

“Of course.  Take those unhappy pictures of childhood, for example.  You don’t mean to argue really that Everychild is treated unkindly?”

She replied thoughtfully, “I fear that Everychild is sometimes treated unkindly.”

He seemed to weigh this point and to remain unconvinced.  He moved more confidently to the next point.  “At least,” he said, “you’ll scarcely contend that Everychild marries the Sleeping Beauty?”

She replied with assurance:  “Everychild marries a Sleeping Beauty.  To him she is beautiful, and she is asleep until he comes.”

Mr. Literal lost patience.  “Very well,” he said, “but you know it’s true that Imagination—­I believe he calls himself Will o’Dreams—­is not a giant as he’s been represented here.”