"How shall I find the fountain, father?" she asked.

"Ah, my child," he answered, looking tenderly upon her, "the way is
long and difficult, and many who wish to seek it do not find
it. Neither can I point out the path to you. Each must find it for
himself. The fountain wells forth in a green valley high among the
mountains, and this river on which our village is built flows from it.
Yet you cannot follow the stream up to its source, for it is often
lost under ground, or is hidden among dark caverns. Through these
hidden caves I found my way; but your young feet may try the mountain
summits. From these you will discern the valley, and can descend into
it. Yet linger not too long among shining glaciers, for the cold may
come upon you suddenly in that bright sunshine, and steal your life
away. And tread lightly along the mountain paths, for often the
slightest motion will bring down an avalanche. And, my child, take
with you this osier basket, in which lies a little loaf of bread. Fear
not to eat of it every day; but remember always to leave a crumb, lest
you should meet a hungry bird, and have nothing to give it. And thus
will the loaf be always renewed. Do not forget, and a blessing be upon
you."

Rosamond went gravely forth with the osier basket in her hand. As she
passed through the village she could not but long to stay among those
pleasant gardens, and water flowers with the children who were so busy
there; but if she lingered to speak to them, she felt the tightened
clasp of the fillet upon her head, and on she hastened. At first she
thought the mountains quite near; but when she had walked until she
was very tired, they seemed as far off as ever, and so on for several
days. At many a weary milestone she stopped, wondering who had rested