a white shining mist, and her hair spread wide on her shoulders
looked white--whiter than a lamb's fleece, and powdered with fine
gold that sparkled and quivered and ran through it like sparks of
yellow fire: and on her head she wore a crown that was like a diamond
seen by candle-light, or like a dewdrop in the sun, and every moment
it changed its colour, and by turns was a red flame, then a green,
then a yellow, then a violet.

[Illustration: ]

"Child, you have followed me far," said the Queen, "and now you are
rewarded, for you have looked on my face and I have refreshed you;
and the Sun, my father, will never more hurt you for my sake."

"He is a naughty boy and unworthy of your goodness," spoke one of
the bright beings standing near. "He killed the spoonbill."

"He cried for the poor slain bird," replied the Queen. "He will
never remember it without grief, and I forgive him."

"He went away from his home and thinks no more of his poor old
father and mother, who cry for him and are seeking for him on the
great plain," continued the voice.

"I forgive him," returned the Queen. "He is such a little
wanderer--he could not always rest at home."

"He emptied a bucketful of water over good old Jacob, who found him
and took him in and fed him, and sang to him, and danced to him, and
was a second father to him."