golden pillar. He pulled aside a window curtain, in order to admit a clear spectacle of the wonders which he was performing; and the tassel grew heavy in his hand, a mass of gold. He hurriedly put on his clothes, and 5 was enraptured to see himself in a magnificent suit of gold cloth. He went downstairs and into the garden. Here, as it happened, he found a great number of beautiful roses in full bloom. He took great pains in going from bush to bush until every flower and bud, and even the 10 worms at the heart of some of them, were changed to gold. By the time this good work was completed, King Midas was summoned to breakfast; and as the morning air had given him an excellent appetite, he made haste back to the palace.

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What was usually a king's breakfast in the days of Midas I really do not know. To the best of my belief, on this particular morning, the breakfast consisted of hot cakes, some nice little brook trout, roasted potatoes, fresh boiled eggs, and coffee, for King Midas himself, and a 20 bowl of bread and milk for his daughter Marygold.

Little Marygold had not yet made her appearance. Her father ordered her to be called, and, seating himself at table, awaited the child's coming in order to begin his own breakfast. It was not a great while before he heard 25 her coming along the passageway crying bitterly.

“Pray

"How now, my little lady!" cried Midas. what is the matter with you this bright morning?" Marygold, without taking the apron from her eyes, held out her hand in which was one of the roses. "Beautiful!" exclaimed her father. "And what is 5 there in this magnificent golden rose to make you cry

?"

Ah, dear father!" answered the child, as well as her sobs would let her; "it is not beautiful, but the ugliest flower that ever grew! As soon as I was dressed I ran into the garden to gather some roses for you, because 10 I know you like them, and like them the better when gathered by your little daughter. But, oh dear, dear me ! What do you think has happened? Such a misfortune! All the beautiful roses that smelled so sweet and had so many lovely blushes are blighted and spoilt! They are 15 grown quite yellow, as you see this one, and have no longer any fragrance! What can have been the matter with them?"

"Poh, my dear little girl, pray don't cry about it!” said Midas, who was ashamed to confess that he himself 20 had wrought the change which so greatly afflicted her. "Sit down and eat your bread and milk! You will find it easy enough to exchange a golden rose like that (which will last hundreds of years) for an ordinary one which would wither in a day.”

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"I don't care for such roses as this!" cried Marygold. "It has no smell, and the hard petals prick my nose!"

Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of coffee, and, as a matter of course, the coffeepot, whatever metal it 5 may have been when he took it up, was gold when he

set it down. He lifted a spoonful of coffee to his lips, and, sipping it, was astonished to perceive that the instant his lips touched the liquid it became molten gold.

"Ha!" exclaimed Midas, rather aghast.

"What is the matter, father?" asked little Marygold, gazing at him with the tears still standing in her eyes. "Nothing, child, nothing!" said Midas.

"I don't quite see," thought he to himself, "how I am to get any breakfast!"

15 He took one of the smoking-hot cakes, and had scarcely

broken it when it assumed the yellow hue of Indian meal. Almost in despair, he helped himself to a boiled egg, which immediately underwent a similar change. King Midas next snatched a hot potato and attempted to cram it into 20 his mouth and swallow it in a hurry. But the Golden

Touch was too nimble for him. He found his mouth full, not of mealy potato, but of solid metal, which so burned his tongue that he roared aloud, and, jumping up from the table, began to dance and stamp about the room, both 25 with pain and affright.

"Father, dear father!" cried little Marygold, who was a very affectionate child, "pray what is the matter?

Have you burned your mouth?"

"Ah, dear child," groaned Midas dolefully, "I don't know what is to become of your poor father!" So great was his hunger and the perplexity of his situation that he again groaned aloud. Our pretty Marygold could endure it no longer. She sat a moment gazing at her father and trying with all the might of her little wits to find out what was the matter with him. Then with a sweet and 10 sorrowful impulse to comfort him, she started from her chair, and, running to Midas, threw her arms affectionately about his knees. He bent down and kissed her. He felt that his little daughter's love was worth a thousand times more than he had gained by the Golden Touch.

My precious, precious Marygold!" cried he.

But Marygold made no answer.

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Alas, what had he done? The moment the lips of Midas touched Marygold's forehead a change had taken place. Little Marygold was a human child no longer, 20 but a golden statue !

It would be too sad a story if I were to tell you how Midas began to wring his hands and bemoan himself; and how he could neither bear to look at Marygold, nor yet to look away from her.

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