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112 with bats' wings, and let it fall upon the shoulders of Printaniere, amid long and loud shrieks of laughter, which proved too surely that it was a wicked trick of the Fairy Carabossa.

At this melancholy sight everybody began to weep, and the queen, more afflicted than any one, tried to pull off the black scarf; but it seemed nailed to her daughter's shoulders. "Ah!" cried she, "this is our enemy's doing! Nothing can appease her! In vain have I sent her fifty pounds of sweetmeats, as much double-refined sugar, ond two Mayence hams; they have gone for nothing with her!"

Whilst thus the queen gave vent to her sorrow, the whole company got wet through to their skins. Printaniere, thinking of nothing but the ambassador, hastened on without saying a single word. Provided she could but charm him, she cared neither for Carabossa nor her unlucky scarf. She wondered to herself that he did not come to meet her, when suddenly she saw him advancing in company with the king. Immediately the trumpets, drums, and violins executed a lively flourish. The shouts of the crowd were redoubled, and the general manifestations of joy were extraordinary.

Fanfarinet had considerable sense; but when he saw the beautiful Printaniere in all her grace and majesty, he was so enchanted that, instead of speaking, he could do nothing but stutter; one would have thought he was tipsy, although he certainly had taken nothing but a cup of chocolate. He was in despair at finding that he had forgotten, in the twinkling of an eye, an oration he had studied every day for many months, and that he was so perfect in, he could have spoken it in his sleep.

While torturing his memory to recover it, he kept bowing profoundly to the Princess, who, in return, made him half-a-dozen curtsies without any remark. At length she commenced the conversation; and to relieve him from the embarrassment in which she perceived him thrown, she said, "My Lord Fanfarinet, I can easily imagine that all your ideas are of the most charming description. I give you credit for the possession of infinite wit. But let us hasten to the palace. It pours in torrents; it is the wicked Carabossa who is drenching us in this way. When we are once under shelter, we may laugh at her malice." He replied, with much gallantry, that the Fairy had wisely foreseen the