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Rh a book; he addressed him, very civilly, and said, "Give me leave to interrupt you: to ask you, if you know in what place I shall find the singing apple?" The young man raised his eyes, and smiling graciously, said, "Do you wish to obtain it?" "Yes, if it be possible," replied the Prince. "Ah! my Lord," replied the stranger, "you are not aware, then, of the dangers attending the undertaking; here is a book that mentions it; it makes one tremble to read it." "No matter for that," said Cheri, "the danger will not dismay me,—only inform me where I shall find it." "This book indicates," continued the young man, "that it is in a vast desert in Libya; that one can hear it sing eight leagues off; and that the dragon, which guards it, has already devoured five hundred thousand persons, who have had the temerity to go there." "I shall make the number five hundred thousand and one," replied the Prince smiling; and saluting him, set forward towards the deserts of Libya; his fine horse, which was of the Zepyhrine race, for Zephyr was his grandsire, went like the wind; so that the Prince's progress was incredibly swift. He listened in vain; he could not hear the singing of the apple anywhere; he was distressed at the length of the way and the inutility of his journey, when he perceived a poor turtle-dove fall at his feet; it was not dead, but very nearly so. As he saw no one who could have wounded it, he thought, perhaps, it belonged to Venus, and having escaped from its dovecot, little mischievous Love, to try his arrows, had let fly at it. He had pity on it, and alighted from his horse; he took it and wiped its white wings stained with blood, and taking from his pocket a little gold bottle which contained an admirable balsam for wounds, he had scarcely applied some of it to that of the poor dove, when it opened its eyes, raised its head, stretched out its wings and plumed itself, then looking at the Prince, said, "Good day, handsome Cheri, you are destined to save my life, and I to do you signal service.

"You are come to seek for the singing apple,—the enterprise is difficult and worthy of you, for it is guarded by a terrible dragon which has twelve feet, three heads, six wings, and a brazen body." "Ah! my dear dove," said the Prince, "how happy I am to see you again, and at a time when your assistance is so necessary to me. Do not refuse it to me, my lovely little creature; for I should die of grief, if I should