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Nils declared loudly: “Before I knew a thing about it, these boys rushed on board and began grabbing some of the best apples.” One hot noontide he and Eric lay on the wharf in the baking sunshine. It was not Pilot Taraldsen’s wharf near the house, but the old wharf beyond the woods. Fifteen or sixteen years had passed, when, the King and Queen being absent at one of their country houses, it happened that the Princess, while running about the castle one day, and up the stairs from one room to the other, came to a little garret at the top of a turret, where an old woman sat alone spinning with distaff and spindle, for this good woman had never heard the King's proclamation forbidding the use of the spindle. “All right then, Bob,” encouraged Mr. Whitney. “Start from the beginning and tell us everything that’s happened.”.