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upon a time there was a king and a queen who had two beautiful boys. They grew like the day, so well did they thrive on the excellent food provided for them. The queen never gave birth to a child without sending for the Fairies, and begging them to tell her what would happen to the infant. Her next was a beautiful little girl, so handsome that you could not look on her and not love her. The queen having sumptuously entertained the Fairies who had come to see her, said to them, when they were preparing to depart, "Do not forget your good custom, but tell me what will happen to Rosette" (the name they had given to the little princess). The Fairies replied that they had left their conjuring books at home, and that they would come and tell her another time. "Ah," said the queen, "that bodes me no good; you do not wish to afflict me by predicting some misfortune: but I entreat you to let me know all—hide nothing from me." They made every sort of excuse, and only increased the queen's desire for information. At last the principal Fairy said to her, "We fear, Madam, that Rosette will be the cause of some great misfortune to her brothers; that some affair of hers will cost them their lives. That is all that we can foresee respecting this beautiful little girl, and we are very sorry we cannot tell you anything more agreeable." They departed, and the queen remained so melancholy that the king could not avoid seeing it in her face. He asked her what was the matter. She answered that she had been sitting too near the fire, and had burnt all the wool off her spindle. "Is that all?" said the king. He went up into the