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Now came the crucial moment. He felt in the pocket where he thought he had put the single match that might possibly be the key to his prison, and for a second was sick with fear that he had lost it. But his fingers closed on the precious object and he breathed again. “Be off with yourself, boy!” he would always say if Johnny Blossom but put his nose in at the stable door. “Nope,” said the other. “Dad don’t want me to be a cowboy. I wouldn’t mind that much. He wants me to be a farm hand! Nix on that! I wish I could go up to the dam. That’s regular work. Reckon I could get a job up there?”.

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But as they were all taking their seats, there was seen to enter an old fairy, who had not been invited, for everyone thought that she was either dead or enchanted, as she had not been outside the tower in which she lived for upwards of fifty years. The King ordered a cover to be laid for her, but there was no possibility of giving her a massive gold case, such as the others had, because there had been only seven made expressly for the seven fairies. The old fairy thought she was treated with contempt, and muttered some threats between her teeth. One of the young fairies, who chanced to be near her, overheard her grumblings, and was afraid she might bestow some evil gift on the young Princess. Accordingly, as soon as they rose from table, she went and hid herself behind the hangings, in order to be the last to speak, and so enable herself to repair, as far as possible, any harm the old fairy might have done. Meanwhile the fairies began bestowing their gifts on the Princess. The youngest, as her gift, promised that she should be the most beautiful person in the world; the next fairy, that she should have the mind of an angel; the third, that every movement of hers should be full of grace; the fourth, that she should dance to perfection; the fifth, that she should sing like a nightingale; the sixth, that she should play on every kind of instrument in the most exquisite manner possible. It was now the turn of the old fairy, and she said, while her head shook more with malice than with age, that the Princess should pierce her hand with a spindle, and die of the wound. 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. “Mother! Mother!” shrieked Asta. “Here’s a piece of a finger, with your big shears, lying on the attic stairs!” The clock struck twelve, when she arose to depart. Having embraced her faithful friend with tears of mingled grief and anxiety, she took a lamp in her hand, and with cautious, fearful steps, descended through the long winding passages to a private door, which opened into the church of the monastery. The church was gloomy and desolate; and the feeble rays of the lamp she bore, gave only light enough to discover its chilling grandeur. As she passed silently along the aisles, she cast a look of anxious examination around—but Ferdinand was no where to be seen. She paused in timid hesitation, fearful to penetrate the gloomy obscurity which lay before her, yet dreading to return..